


Part 2 of The Tender Trap

by sleepingseeker



Series: The Tender Trap [3]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Forgiveness, Love Triangles, Revenge, Romance, Sacrifice, Sexual Content, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 123,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3106136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingseeker/pseuds/sleepingseeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to the tragic love story between Leonardo & Karai, Donatello & April. </p><p>(Rated T for steamy scenes, language and violence. I warn before chapters that might be intense for some sensitive readers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> So here is the second part of The Tender Trap! This story is set one year after the events of Mikey's Girl. You really should read both The Tender Trap and Mikey's Girl to fully know what's going on, but I offer recap throughout, so hopefully if you haven't read it yet, it makes some sense. For my following readers who have read it, please forgive any info dumps or chunks of recap. I only hope they aren't too dull!
> 
> My stories are usually on the darker side of things as I aim for realism and attempt to add depth to my characters. Reviews are so greatly appreciated and yes, even begged for! Your reviews keep me inspired to write. Thanks xo

The angel spread her arms wide and opened her wings and the feathers floated down around them as it did. White, downy feathers drifted on top of and around him as he moved slowly over her. She blinked languidly, her eyes meeting his and within them he read her need, the aching desire and hunger for him; the love; love for him, only him. He brought his mouth down and pressed it into her lips, sliding his trembling arms under her back, bracing her arching neck with his fingers; wrapping her in his embrace, gently pulling her closer. Her breath caressed his cheek and he nuzzled deeper into her dark hair and side of her neck; breathing in the cherry blossom and woody scent of her. He felt her racing pulse against his mouth as he kissed her throat, matching the pounding rhythm of his own. Her body arched and pressed into his. Over the sound of the blood rushing through his ears, he heard her gasp and her arms tightened their hold around him. He felt and heard her nails scrap against his shell, sending an involuntary shudder through him. He was close, but he didn't want it to end, he never wanted it to end; so he held on; he resisted and fought against his mounting need for release; struggling against the tide rising through him;  _not yet…not yet…_

 _"Leonardo!"_ her voice; an urgent whisper against his skin feather-light but strong enough to tear him free from his weakening hold on control. Thundering joy and bliss stampeded through him as he let go, crying out wordlessly as he surrendered himself; all of himself to her.

A harsh voice hollered through his door, "Leonardo! Time ta get up!"

His eyes snapped open; pupils dilated and then contracted in the dim morning light. He blinked, unsure of where he was; laying on his shell; staring up at a foreign ceiling made up of cracked bricks and occasional cobwebs. The joyous fervor he'd been swept up in slid off him like a silk ribbon slipping through his fingers leaving him feeling empty and hollow; a bit sick to his stomach. His heart hammered, he swallowed thickly and turned his sweating brow to see his small alarm clock. He sighed heavily. He was in his room. Alone. As always. The date in tiny numbers stood out. He blinked.

October ninth. He was twenty-one today.

* * *

Karai gasped and sat upright in the center of her bed. She looked around at the silken, rumpled sheets and bedding surrounding her. The daylight was dying outside her window as evening approached. The sound of thunder rumbled far away; the noise like an irritated grumble from the gods. A cool breeze shifted the lace curtains making them billow out, bringing the scent of rain into her room; other than that, her bedroom was still. She was alone. But it was so real.  _No, it was only a dream._  She dropped her head into her hands; running her shaking hands through her damp hair. Slowly she ran her fingertips over her lips, gazing out across the expanse of her room, not really seeing it; still seeing his deep blue eyes staring into her with love and desire, passion and tenderness. Her heart tripped with the vision. He was there. He was holding her, kissing her, loving her. She closed her eyes, she could still feel his arms around her; she could still almost taste him. Almost. She groaned and dropped her body back into the downy pillows and threw an arm over her eyes. She fought against the threatening tears.

It had been two years; and still she hurt for him; still dreamt of him almost every night. When would this torture end?

Biting her lip until the pain forced her to release it, she threw her arm down hard on the mattress, hand fisted. No longer was she a child. She was almost twenty years old; an adult now. Her orders sent men to their glorious triumph or wicked deaths. She had to accept that she would never see Leonardo again. Her father made sure of that by keeping her in Japan and keeping all her assignments local. She couldn't secretly cry and yearn for him any longer; had to let him go. She  _had_  to. It was for the best anyway. She rolled to one side, feeling miserable despite her inner voice's strong words.

Besides, he most likely hated her; her heart constricted with the thought. She wouldn't blame him if he did. The last he saw of her, she was her kicking his broken and battered body across a room filled with barbaric Foot soldiers and calling him weak and pathetic. Her head dropped into her pillows as tears burned the back of her eyes. It was the only way…in front of them all…if she hadn't they would have…she tried to save him. She even tried to leave him a personal message. Who knows if he ever saw the words she'd spray painted on the angel statue? Would he understand what she was trying to say to him? Dread stirred in her stomach as she considered how terrible it would be if he took it the other way. More games, more vicious taunts. Maybe she would've been wiser to leave things as they lay. But she had to try…

She smacked her forehead and groaned louder and dragged herself to sit on the edge of the bed. She glanced at the clock, October ninth was coming to an end and her day, or rather, her night, was just beginning. She was to meet her father at the night club that served as a front for some of his money laundering operations in a few hours. She walked to her closet and pulled out a simple dress so dark purple it almost looked black. Purple. It made her think of Leonardo's brother.

She remembered her pleading with him to tell Leonardo she hadn't betrayed him; still loved him with her whole heart.  _Begged_  him. She snorted softly. A lot of good it did. He gave her no indication that he would follow through. Her throwing away her dignity and honor seemed to have zero effect on him. She sighed, resigned. It didn't matter. That was all in the past. Leonardo would be safest if she kept away from him, no matter how much she ached for him. Frustrated, she crumpled the dress in her fists. She had to let him go. It was time to grow up.

She moved into the bathroom and started up the shower. Glancing in the mirror she frowned.  _Ugh, I need more sleep._ She looked pale and gaunt to herself. Running her faction of the Foot had not been easy or remotely fun. Recently a new clan had begun to infiltrate some of their operations. Violence had been escalating and the stress was beginning to show on her face in worry lines around her eyes. It didn't help that her heart was never in it. She didn't care about the Foot or their lasting legacy in the world. Everything was gray without Leonardo in her life. Her heart really wasn't in anything anymore and the act she kept up to fool her father was wearing thin. She looked again at herself in the mirror with disgust. She couldn't keep going on this way. What kind of warrior was she?

"Grow up, Karai. Let this foolish obsession go." She pointed at herself, "You're not a child anymore."

As she stepped into the shower she hesitated and jumped in fright as a loud bang came from outside her bedroom door. The sound of men shouting had her heart pounding as she quickly shut off the water and threw on her dress. She raced out from the room, pausing only to grab the decorative katana displayed on her bedroom wall. It probably wasn't very sharp, but she didn't want to run into a dangerous situation unarmed.

She leapt into the living room; sword held in front of her body defensively. Her face shot up and she dropped the sword from her grip. Three soldiers raced from her kitchen and back to her living room, shouting and cursing in Japanese, carrying a bowl of water and towels. One of them was on a cell phone. She caught the words  _doctor_  and her address. Her eyes sought out the center of the chaos and found the figure of her father, the front of his suit and legs covered in crimson, slumped in one of her chairs.

 _"Father!"_  she whispered and ran to his side.

* * *

Michelangelo jumped out of the kitchen, spatula in hand as Leonardo quietly emerged from his room. He wore a pair of gray sweat pants and was shirtless.

"There's the birthday boy! I'm making you your favorite! Blueberry pancakes and bacon, extra crispy!"

Leonardo smiled at him and blinked as he made his way to their laundry room. His sheets in a tight bundle in his arms. Michelangelo frowned.

"Hey,  _Hey!_  No way, man. No chores on your birthday. No chores," he insisted, as Leonardo continued towards the laundry room ignoring his outburst, "Splinter's rule!"

"Uh…It's okay. I just need to…wash these."

Leonardo hurried along before Michelangelo could stop him, his face burning with mortification and embarrassment. The last thing he needed was for Mikey to grab his sheets from him and realize his shame. He hadn't dreamt of…her in a long time. At first, he could only lay in bed, exhausted but unable to sleep at all. Then as the weeks turned to months, he found himself drifting for a few hours at a time. When he was actually sleeping, he was either plagued by terrifying nightmares of his torture or the moments he shared with Karai beneath the angel statue or a horrifying mix of the two. Finally, over time, his body found a natural rhythm of restful sleeping and the nightmares eased away, but then he was only left with and tormented by vivid sensual dreams of Karai.

He crouched, looking for the laundry soap. He'd experienced being intimate with a woman…with Karai…something he never thought would even be possible despite his secret and deep yearning for her. And even though she had betrayed him in the most humiliating and devastating way…he poured the laundry soap into the chute, then slammed the container closed; throwing the bottle back into the corner where he found it…his traitorous subconscious seemed to endlessly obsess about the time he spent wrapped in her arms.

In his dreams the act was recreated in painfully realistic detail; exactly how her body, hands, lips, legs,  _everything_ felt, her scent, her voice calling out his name... His hands balled into shaking fists. It hurt to remember. It shamed him to think he would still desire her after everything she'd done to him. But those moments…they were before…before…when he thought she…when he was  _stupid_  enough,  _fool_  enough to think…she actually did want…did love…him.

He snorted, feeling his chest fill with a deep self-loathing; he crouched. He shoved the sticky sheets into the machine, punched the button to turn it on. He turned and leaned his shell against the churning washer; breathing heavy. He ran a hand over his face, held it for a moment above his eyes as he tried to calm himself. It was all in the past. It's over. It's  _been_  over. As one year turned to two, all the dreams had faded away. His nights were devoid of visions and he was grateful for it. He figured that even if he did still dream of her, he didn't remember it and he was grateful for that as well. That was, until last night.

He swallowed as the visions of the dream rose in his mind. The caress of her fingers against his flesh. The warmth of her body pressing against him. Her panting breath against his cheek. Her voice as she…  _Leonardo!_

He clenched his jaw; turned and slammed his fist onto the top of the washing machine, creating a deep dent in the top. He stared at it with burning eyes. The machine rocked as it washed, now unbalanced. Damn. How was he going to explain this to Donatello? Raphael poked his head into the laundry room. Leo straightened, looked guilty for being caught with something other than neutrality on his face. He struggled to force his expression back into the blank mask that he'd adapted to wearing to shield his inner emotional turmoil from his family.

"Uh, happy birthday, bro," he said, and the careful note in Raphael's voice set his teeth on edge. Then Raph motioned with his thumb towards the room behind him. "Breakfast is ready."

Leonardo stared at the floor; rubbed one arm; nodded and followed Raphael to the kitchen taking deep breaths as he walked, trying to slow his pounding heart. Master Splinter was seated, sipping his steaming tea. Michelangelo set a plate before Leonardo, then Raphael as they sat.

"Here ya go! Happy birthday, Leo!" Michelangelo said happily.

"Happy birthday, my son."

Leonardo ducked his head in thanks, feeling slightly better. Donatello came in and poured a mug of coffee for himself. He tipped the mug in Michelangelo's direction.

"Thanks, Mikey." Mouth full, cheeks round, Michelangelo smiled; making his eyes squint and nodded at him. Donatello turned to Leonardo and clapped him on the shoulder, rubbed it affectionately. "Happy birthday, Leo." He glanced around at his family. "So, what's the plan for our big brother's big day?"

Raphael rubbed his hands together. A wicked smile spread over his face. Leo glanced at him and continued to eat, feeling a little nervous at the way he was smiling.

"You know how Casey has that friend up near 161st?"

Donatello stiffened at the mention of Casey's name, but kept his eyes to one side and only sipped his coffee and leaned against the counter near the stove. Michelangelo pointed to a plate he made for Donatello behind him. He glanced at it but suddenly didn't feel very hungry.

"Well, Casey told me he's got it all arranged. The guy's out of town and Casey is apartment sitting. Do you know what that means?" They stared at him with blank faces. Raphael's expression was one of smug triumph.

"You, brother of mine, are gonna see, in person, your first, official postseason Yankee's game!"

Michelangelo spit out his orange juice in a wide spray over the table and Splinter covered the top of his mug with a scowl in his direction. Stunned, Donatello stared open-mouthed at Raphael.

"What! Why didn't I know this?! Wait a minute. How the hell are we going to manage that?"

Raphael crossed his arms over his chest. "Relax. It'll be on the roof with binoculars. But it'll still be live and as close to in person as you can get. The guy usually rents out the space, but cuz he's outta town and Casey's doin' him a favor, it's all ours! Casey's bringing the goods. All we gotta do is show up." He smiled widely at Leonardo.

"But…won't we get spotted?" Michelangelo asked as he shoved the remaining pancake into his mouth and chewed noisily.

Raphael waved him away. "Nah, I came up with a plan."

Michelangelo exchanged glances with Leo as a small, but genuine smile spread across his face. The expression made Mikey happier than Leo would ever know.

"Oh boy. I hope you didn't hurt yourself too much, Raph, while you were thinking it up," Michelangelo teased.

Raph sneered at him, "Hardy-har. Keep it up and I'll hurt you, C _hef-y_."

Mikey mouthed the word 'chef-y' with a bemused expression, then mouthed what the hell at Donatello who only shrugged with a shake of his head, rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee. Raph turned his attention back to Leonardo who was sitting still and taking in the antics and happy energy of his family surrounding him. He felt the remaining feelings of yearning, anger and malaise from moments ago fading away as the sun burns away the storm clouds after a thunderstorm.

"You gave me the idea, bro. We'll go in disguise. We'll wear clothes, you know, sweatshirts and shit."

Master Splinter cleared his throat; shifted in his seat. Raphael ignored him. He was too excited.

"It's gonna be great." He leaned over and patted Leonardo on the shoulder.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Raphael shook his head, his green eyes sparkling. "You deserve it, bro. You only turn twenty-one once." He stood. "I expect nothin' less from you guys next year when it's my turn." He moved into the living room, pulling his cell from his belt. "I'm callin' Casey to make sure he doesn't need anything else. Someone call April for me," he hollered from the living room. "She's in charge of bringing us some clothes. Now that the cat's outta the bag we can remind her."

Donatello set his coffee mug down. He stared at the cracked linoleum beneath his feet, feeling the oppressive stare from Master Splinter; didn't dare meet his eyes.

"I…I'll do it," Mikey said loudly and his attempt at seeming causal was a complete failure.

Donatello swiftly fled from the room without a word to anyone as Michelangelo dialed and brought the phone to his cheek. Leonardo watched him go over his shoulder.

"Leonardo," Splinter said, catching his attention. He turned to his Sensei. "I have a gift for you as well, my son."

Leonardo ducked his head and blinked, staring at his now empty plate. He wasn't sure why, but his stomach suddenly felt tight and uneasy. The shame from his dream once again rose up inside his mind unbidden and uncomfortable. Logically, he knew he couldn't control what he dreamt, but it didn't help the guilt he felt about it, as though he'd somehow disappointed Master Splinter by some part of him still wanting her.

Splinter rose from the table. Leonardo stood and followed him. They passed Raphael who was talking rapidly into his phone. He flopped onto the couch, one leg over the arm rest. He barked out a laugh. Leonardo stepped inside the dimly lit space that made up Master Splinter's room. Immediately he knelt on the colorful zabuton mat. Splinter stepped to a closed cabinet with ornate scroll work on each door. He slid one side open and removed something. Then turned to face his son. He moved and knelt before Leonardo on a large cushion.

"When you and your brother's were only babies, I decided to give you each your own special day, as is the tradition among humans, marking the day you came into this world as a day of celebration. By the lines on your shell, it was easy to see that you were the eldest." He glanced at the box in his hands. Then handed it to Leonardo. "Happy birthday, Leonardo."

Slowly, he unwrapped the silken ribbon and let it fall away to his folded thigh. He lifted the hinged lid of the ornate bronze box and revealed a short sword within. He set the box on his lap and traced one finger along the length of the silver blade. It was shorter than two feet long, and the handle was wrapped with light blue silk with a braided tassel. Leonardo brought his fist to his chest, covered it with his other palm and bowed deeply.

"It…It is beautiful. Thank you, Sensei."

Splinter rested his hand on top of Leonardo's bent head. "You are most welcome, Leonardo," he said then continued in a bright voice, as he lifted the sword from within the box, "It is a Kodachi. Authentic and very well made. I had April's help in ordering it online."

Leonardo nodded and Splinter carefully replaced the sword.

"Yes, she does offer us some use," he mumbled under his breath.

Leonardo didn't know what to think about the comment. Things had been strained between his family and April since the trip to her family farm and the blow up between Casey and his brother. Donatello would not confess to any wrong doing. Casey felt that Donatello had betrayed him and had forced a wedge between him and April. Only through Raphael's persistent convincing and fighting did he finally settle on being almost civil around Donatello. All the while, Donatello remained defiantly silent despite Casey's accusations and Splinter punishing him repeatedly to get to the truth.

Though he felt disobeying Master Splinter was wrong, a part of him felt proud of his brother's stubborn willfulness. He always knew that Donatello had a tough streak inside. Besides, it was no one's business what had happened between his brother and April. If anything had even happened at all. They were all adults. No one had the right to interfere. Donatello had feelings for April for years, since the day he met her, in fact. If he still harbored those same feelings for April after all this time and she for him, they had a right to sort things out between themselves, whether Casey liked it or not.

Splinter's voice broke his contemplation on his brother's relationship woes.

"You are no longer a child, Leonardo. Now that you have turned twenty-one, you are an adult. I can no longer command things of you…but I want you to know that I am always here for you, for counsel or advice."

Their eyes met and Splinter could see in him how much he'd grown in the last two years. His deep dedication to training and complete obedience impressed him greatly. He'd feared for a time that his son's spirit had been broken by Karai's betrayal. More than a few nights had passed with Leonardo grieving his heartache for that wretched girl. But he had underestimated his son's fierce determination and tenacious spirit. Shortly after he had recovered from what he'd endured at the hands of Shredder, he had restored Leonardo's place as leader within their family. It was a wise decision. Splinter now saw before him a strong individual, a spirit made of steel and righteousness.

He only wished that his son communicated as openly with him as he used to. That was one aspect that never seemed to completely heal in the aftermath of everything he'd endured. Leonardo seemed distant and cut off from the rest of his family. Not as much as he did initially, he now smiled more and spoke more often, but he never completely came back to them. It was almost as if he lived in two separate worlds during the first year after he was rescued. There was progress, most assuredly where his brothers were concerned. But between him and his son, things were never exactly how they used to be.

He nodded and bowed to Leonardo, dismissing him; a sadness haunting the edges of his heart as he watched his son leave the room. He was unable to express his expansive pride in his son, unable to voice the glowing love he felt, the space between them too great. Splinter hoped his feelings showed through in his eyes, at least there was that possibility.

* * *

Donatello stared at the computer screen, one cheek propped up by his palm. He scrolled through the various information for converting gasoline driven vehicles to be run using grease. Michelangelo's excited voice moved through the lair as he spoke with April on the phone. The words blurred and bled together, replaced with her face in his mind's eye. Frustrated, he exited out of all the open screens and then powered down his computer.

He moved to his bed and laid back onto his shell; his arms going up next to his head, cradling the back of his head in his hands. Things had been so frustrating and confusing this past year. Ever since they visited April's farm house the previous summer and that night that Casey had accidentally dialed her cell phone. He sighed as he remembered. That night…


	2. Regretful of Nothing

_Did I drive you away?... I know what you'll say._

_…My heart is yours…_

_It's you that I hold on to…_

_That's what I do..._  - **Sparks**  by Coldplay

* * *

 

Donatello laid on his shell, hands cradling his head as he closed his eyes. He remembered it all in perfect detail…the previous summer...at April's farm…that sultry late summer night…

They had been spending a great evening together laughing and drinking and playing cards. April's eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed the way they get whenever she has too much to drink, her sprinkling of freckles standing out, and Donatello couldn't keep his eyes off her. Raph did his best to try to steal her attention away with some of his awful and crude jokes, but it seemed to Donatello that April kept glancing his way and throwing smiles in his direction all evening long; looking to see his expression after every crack Raph made. Each time she did, his heart beat a bit harder, his head felt a bit more lightheaded. He basked in her attention; drinking it in; loving every precious second of it. Mikey had come into the kitchen for a snack when her cell phone rang in her pocket. She left the kitchen table and stepped out onto the wrap-around porch of her farmhouse for some privacy. That was when Raphael decided to poke his nose in something that had nothing to do with him.

* * *

 ***** Raphael leaned forward in his chair and in a low voice said, "What the hell do you think you've been doin' egghead?"

Donatello blinked at him and said nothing.

"You know she's with him, Donnie. She's engaged, man."

He shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't know…if Casey hears about this he's gonna kick your smart-ass all over this farm. And I ain't gonna stop 'em," he hissed.

Donatello leaned forward in his chair, braced his hands against the table and opened his mouth to retort when suddenly April's furious and outraged voice drifted through the screen. The tone rising as she rattled off words in rapid succession. Everyone's heads snapped towards the sound.

"Are you freakin' kidding me, Casey? Tell me you're not there with Sean. No. No. Put him on the phone. No. Sean, where are you and Casey right now. Answer me. Casey? No, I don't want to hear any more of your lame ass lies! You better believe it was a mistake that you called me! Right. You'd never want me to know about you're little guys' night out. You know what? Yeah, Casey, you know what? Stay there. I don't want you comin' back, you got that? No. You got that? I mean it! You freakin' slob!"

The sound of her sobs filled the air and the noise of something being thrown into the yard. Donatello jumped up, knocking his chair back and dashed outside.

* * *

He stopped abruptly, the screen door slammed behind him. April marched back and forth on the porch, her bare feet stomping against the wooden boards, her hands swinging out, running through her hair, punching the railing of the porch. Donatello crossed out from the yellow shaft of light coming from the screen door behind him, reached out to her. He'd seen her angry many times, but tonight she was absolutely livid. His face was crushed with worry for her. He wanted her to calm down. Casey wasn't worth all this emotional upheaval.

She turned towards him as he tentatively brushed her arm with his fingertips. He couldn't help but gasp. Her hair was a riot of waves and curls from the night's humidity, her cheeks and nose were red, tears streamed from her flashing eyes. She never looked more beautiful.

 _"April,"_  he croaked, then cleared his throat. "Hey, it…it's okay."

Her face fell and she stepped closer to him, falling into his open arms. Between sobs she spoke, her words running together and slurred but for the most part, clear.

"That… _asshole!_  It's  _not_  okay. Nothing's okay, Donnie! I told him to stay away from his lowlife cousin. He promised me! He swore - he'd take care of his stupid…drug dealing cousin… _Marcy_  and then come right back here. But oh, no! Not when Sean's around. He always does this!"

She stamped her feet as she shouted the last part into his chest then glanced up at him, huffing, still in his arms, shaking with rage, eyes flashing her fury and Donatello opened his mouth but then swallowed back his words as she rattled on.

"This is the third time, Donnie, the  _third_  time in the past year he's done this to me! Ugh! That's it! Third times the charm, right?! RIGHT?"

Donatello, eyes wide, quickly nodded in agreement.

"I swear  _this…_ is so  _over_ ," her voice cracked. She stepped out from his arms and he stood in shocked silence as she roughly yanked and pulled the engagement ring off her finger and help it up to his face. "I swear Donnie. No more of his lame-ass apologies and excuses. I'm done with him. Done."

She turned to pitch it into the dark yard, when he caught her wrist. He would have gladly let her fling it into the lake if it made her happy. Hell, he would've done it himself, using his bo to bat it out as far as possible. But right now she was worked up, drunk and not thinking straight. His own emotions were all over the place, and he could only imagine how she was feeling right then. She turned a confused and betrayed look his way.

"Uh, I…I think maybe…that's not a great idea, right now." Donatello said softly and eased her hand to her side. She frowned petulantly but pressed her lips together and shoved the ring into her jean short's pocket; nodding. She held up both hands to him in surrender.

"No," she sniffed, "You're right. I should give that back to him." She crossed her arms; huffed out a breath. Her face snapped up, eyes narrowed and flashing again with fury. "Right after I bash him upside the head with one of his stupid hockey sticks." She punched one fist into the other palm.

Donatello rubbed the back of his head and snickered, "Ouch."

Laughter bubbled up and out from her. She giggled; sniffled; giggled again. She used the back of her hand to wipe her cheek; her shoulder to wipe her nose, as she glanced out into the darkness punctuated by the intermittent glow of fireflies floating above the grass and sighed.

Donatello felt the beginnings of something in that moment. It was vague and insubstantial but there was something right in front of him and all he had to do was reach out and take it but he was terrified of screwing it up. He glanced around, the night was clear; then behind to the silent house, no one emerged from the screen door and they were alone. He had to act on this feeling before it slid away and the moment was gone. He had to say something clever and sweet. He had to bring her back into his arms somehow, comforting her but also showing her he was all hers, and would never hurt her the way Casey had done. Would never take her love for granted. That he'd be by her side always, forever, no matter what happened. Chewing the inside of his cheek, his useless mind scattered. He was completely at a loss for what to say or do.

_Think, dammit, think!_

"Did you just see that?"

April broke the stillness as she skipped down the stairs of the porch. Donatello followed, suddenly on alert for danger but also feeling devastated that he missed his chance to capture that delicate moment. He silently cursed himself a loser who never deserved her anyway. What was he thinking? April stopped and stood in the center of the yard, looking up. She pointed above her head.

"Look, Donnie!"

He looked up and caught the briefest blue flash as a falling star streaked across the expansive black of the night sky. He smiled, showing the gap in his teeth.

"Oh, that's the Perseids. It's an annual meteor shower." He considered for a moment, then nodded. "That's right. It happens every year in the later part of summer." He moved to her side and pointed. "They're called Perseids because they originate from there, the constellation, Perseus. It's more of a stream of debris from the comet than  _actual_  meteors falling…"

His steady flow of information halted abruptly as she turned a beaming, still tear-streaked face his way and laughed softly at him. A wave of heat flowed through him, coloring his face. She was very close. Taken by a sudden boldness he reached out and slid a stray lock of hair from her cheek. Her eyes roved over his face, lingering on his mouth and he felt his heart start to pound.

"Donnie…You're just so..." She shook her head and he wondered what she wanted to say.

His eyes dropped from her gaze. His wretched mind filled in the blanks:  _nerdy, boring, predictable, useless…a freak of nature?_

"You know where we'd have a great view?" she asked faintly. Something in her tone caught his immediate attention. He numbly shook his head; eyes locked on her lips. He felt her warm hand snake around his and her delicate fingers squeeze his hand which had become cool and sweaty the instant she turned to him.

"Follow me," she said and he swore her voice had definitely taken on a sultry note. In a daze he allowed her to lead him across the yard and through the shadowy doorway into the barn like a lamb to the slaughter.

* * *

"Get your ass out here, bucket-head," Raph hollered from the living room. Donatello sat up and groaned as he was pulled from his sweet memories.

An entire day spent in Casey Jones' proximity was something he was not looking forward to. But it was Leonardo's twenty-first birthday and he promised himself that he'd do his best to make it a perfect day for his recovering brother. He knew a lot of planning had gone into this day and it was almost sweet how much Raphael had put into it. Well, he had to face Casey some time. Might as well get it over with so he could get on with the rest of Leo's birthday. He strode with leaden feet to his door and with a deep breath to steady himself, he opened it; stepping through into the living room.

"Hi, Donnie," April said sweetly.

Startled, his face shot up and it took everything he had not to stumble back into his room. "Oh, h…hi, April," he stammered. He felt flustered and all raw nerves as a blush crept across his cheeks. He forgot that April was bringing them their disguises here to the lair and then driving them to Casey's friend's apartment.

She'd been so hot and cold with him since that night, he never knew what to expect from her. One minute she'd be snuggled up with him watching a movie, stroking the top of his hand, driving him crazy with longing and the next it was like she was furious with him about something and didn't want to be anywhere near him let alone touch him. It was so confusing. And it only made him feel nervous and jumpy whenever she was around, like a rabbit in an open field without cover just as the shadow of a hawk appears.

She held out a bundle of clothes to him. "Hope they fit. I got you each two sizes just to be safe."

He stared at the clothes and then silently cursed himself to snap out of his daze. "Thanks a bunch," he said brightly then slid back into his room on rubbery legs, clutching the bundle to his chest and squeezing his eyes closed. He mouthed, 'thanks a bunch?' silently and swore.  _I am such an idiot!_

He heard her laugh from behind the door then say, "Let me know if you need any help."

His heart raced along with his mind. What did  _that_  mean? He was nineteen and a ninja for crying out loud. He could dress himself. Of course he didn't need help. Wait, was she flirting with him? He clenched his jaw.

_Get it together, Donnie._

He unfolded the clothes and began to dress. The dark blue pants went on easily enough, sliding up over his hips and bottom. The waist band sat just below where his shell connected to the side of his plastron and in the back, it came up to just below where the inside of his shell connected to the middle of his spine. The matching sweatshirt was bulky and was meant to cover the outside of his entire carapace. He pulled it over his head. But then struggled once his arms were through. The sweatshirt was a bit clumsy for him to pull down over the back of his shell. It caught on the rough edges and he couldn't get it free. After several minutes of twisting and turning in a circle he gave up and stepped back into the living room.

He stood there feeling ridiculous with the bulky sweater bunched up and stuck under his arms. He glanced around for someone to help him; fuming with irritation. Clothes were stupid. Splinter was not in the room with them. But that was to be expected. His relationship with April was at best, curt and civil, but cold. He spotted April.

She was crouched near Mikey. She was busy pulling Michelangelo's heavy sweatshirt down to cover the bottom half of his shell. The hood obscured the top of his head and eyes and he raised his snout to grin widely at April. His hands tucked into the kangaroo pocket in the front of the sweatshirt.

"Um…" he said helplessly.

She straightened, chuckling, then pulled the back of his dark gray hood back a little until she could see his eyes again. Then patted him on the top of his head.

"There ya go. Sorry I couldn't find you an orange one."

"That's okay. It's not like orange is exactly my favorite color." He rolled his eyes and paused. "This feels weird," he said wiggling his shoulders and scrunching up his face.

Raphael yanked the bottom of his black sweatshirt down with a grunt, tearing the edge a little. He stood in the center of the room and glared at Donatello, taking his frustration of fighting with the clothes out on his younger brother. "Geez, Donnie, don't know why you needed the privacy, it's not like you ain't walking around in nothin' everyday anyway."

Donatello's face flushed red again. April moved around Michelangelo, approached him; stopping in front of him as she reached around him to grasp the bottom of his sweatshirt behind him. Arms raised, blinking rapidly, he lifted his chin to give her as much space as he could; making it apparent that his hands were nowhere near her body. But he felt her softness press into him as her arms moved down the sides of his body; caught the spicy scent of her familiar perfume and it took all his control not to either jump back and away from her or wrap her in his arms and bury his face in her curls. She stood up and tilted her head, absentmindedly straightening the strings sticking out from the base of the hood. She finished and patted him on his chest.

"I like you in blue, Donnie. It brings out the chocolate color of your eyes."

He opened his mouth but found he couldn't speak with his heart in his throat; no, not with her this close, so causally touching him in front of his brothers while he burned on the inside for her. She turned her back to him and addressed the room.

"Where's the birthday boy?" she asked bringing her hands together with a smile.

They looked at each other, then around the lair. April spotted him across the room on the couch. Leonardo was sitting quietly in front of the television, motionless as stone. The light flickered over the front of him casting him in a strange strobe-like effect. An uneasy feeling swept over them. There was an oppressive feeling hanging over him sitting there like that. So quiet, so still; so completely removed from the happy atmosphere only a few feet away from him that he might as well have been on another planet. The air around him crackled with an electric intensity.

Raphael and Michelangelo glanced at each other and Raphael shook his head. April, Donatello, Raph and Mikey crowded together and crept closer, moving together almost as one entity. Something was wrong; they sensed it like an oncoming storm. They focused on Leonardo, only shifting their gazes as they came closer from him to the television screen to see what had him so entranced. They gathered in a tight group just behind him, behind the back of the couch.

On the screen; a news reporter interviewing various people within a panicked mob on the street in front of a night club; the signs behind him written in Japanese; behind him some paramedics were rushing people into an ambulance; their clothes spattered with blood. The scene cut to another reporter facing the camera, speaking rapidly; then a name came out from the speaker and hit them with an invisible, yet almost physical force,  _Oroku Karai_.

The moment, which was only a second, two at most, held itself in perfect suspension without anyone able to speak or move or do anything to stop fate from playing her cruel hand to their brother and friend on his birthday. April paled; covered her mouth with two hands. Her eyes shot to Leonardo, still sitting rigidly, facing forward; staring at the screen. Waves of some intense emotion poured off his body. Raphael frowned, mouth open. He wanted to shout for someone to turn the fucking thing off, but the words caught in his throat. So he stood there, feeling the blood rush to his head, feeling like he was frozen in place, unable to help or turn away as a collision happened in front of his eyes. Michelangelo gripped the back of the couch, his eyes staring at the side of Leonardo's face, his expression only worried and fearful. Donatello shook his head then cast about frantically for the remote. He needed to shut off the set before they cut to her... Where was it?

But before anyone could prevent it from happening, the camera focused on a well-dressed young woman wearing a black suit jacket over a white silk blouse. The screen filled with her oval face as it came in for a close up.

Though he didn't move a muscle, a small sound came from Leonardo. Perhaps it was the faint sound of his heart crying out from within him. So small it wasn't much of a sound at all. But everyone heard it.

Karai's thick hair was trimmed to sit just above her shoulders and heavy bangs brushed the tips of her eyelashes. Her eyes flashed at the camera as she calmly answered questions about the condition of her father, Oroku Saki, the famed businessman known for his philanthropy and well respected schools of martial arts across Japan who'd been involved in an attack inside one of Tokyo's premier clubbing spots earlier that evening. The camera refocused on the initial reporter. The screen went black and then a commercial for shampoo came on. April watched as Leo raised a trembling hand and clicked off the television. The lair fell into an oppressive silence as his hand fell limply to his lap. He carefully set the remote to one side.

April exchanged horrified looks with Donatello and Raphael, then stared at the back of Leonardo's head. She knew that Leo had had some type of romantic relationship with Karai and it had led to his capture, torture and near death at the hands of her father and Foot clan. She also knew from the little that Donatello had told her that he'd developed a serious attachment to her and was still struggling with it. She opened her mouth to say something placating; reached out to touch his shoulder, but before she could make contact, he sat forward, bracing his elbows on his knees; dropping his head. His shoulders rose then fell as he took a deep breath, then another.

"Leo -" Michelangelo started but bit his tongue as Leo moved.

Leonardo stood up on weak legs and was grateful for the sweatpants. He didn't need them to see how his knees wobbled. He reached back and pulled the hood of his dark gray sweatshirt up over his head. He couldn't trust that his expression still held the neutral, blank look that he wore for his family. He slid his clenched fists into the deep pockets and moved around the couch, everyone watching him as he walked across the room. He stopped just besides the exit of their home. He turned his body partially to them, but didn't meet any of their eyes, keeping his head down, eyes lowered to the floor.

"Ready to go?" he asked and his voice was barely more than a strained whisper.

* * *

Karai threw her jacket over the side of her couch as she walked into her apartment. The night club and the reporters had given her a headache. She sighed. The room was filled with soldiers and men in suits talking to each other, speaking into cell phones, moving around drinking tea from small cups. Her apartment had been overrun with Foot soldiers. She pushed her way through the crowd to the kitchen where she met her father's trusted doctor, Tsuneo Yuichi. He was scribbling out a prescription. He looked up at her over his wire-framed glasses, the scar on his cheek standing out in the yellow light of her kitchen, and nodded his greeting. The man was one of very few who cared for Oroku Saki and was held in his esteem as a trusted individual. She glanced around. Files and a clipboard were piled on her table. Picking up a file, she glanced at it, noting the doses of prescribed pain killers listed.

"How is my father?" She set the file down feeling frustrated, wishing he'd go to the hospital like a normal person. "Why can't he be moved to more of a…a proper hospital?"

Doctor Tsuneo Yuichi shook his head. He set his pen down and tented his fingers. "He is doing well, considering the injuries he sustained. As for the hospital, he refuses." He paused as a soldier came into the kitchen then walked out with the tea kettle. He continued in a lower voice, "Karai-san, you know it would be too dangerous to move him to such a public place. He is safer here. When stronger, we will move him to the designated place of recovery. One of our safe houses."

She nodded. Of course he had to be careful. They both had to be careful, always. More so now than ever before; he'd been seriously wounded and until he recovered, he was considered weak and was vulnerable to attacks, despite his trusted body guards and elite soldiers surrounding him, there were always factions within and without waiting for their moment to strike and seize control. Saki was a man from humble beginnings and had to fight tooth and nail to achieve the success he had. There were always those who wished to send him back to those meager beginnings by challenging him or trying to take what he rightfully earned through his own blood and sacrifice. She glanced through more of the medical records, reading some, skimming over other bits.

"Karai-san, he wished to see you as soon as you returned."

She nodded and stood. She gave him a bow and thanked him then moved to the guest bedroom where Saki lay hooked up to an IV, heart monitor and several other machines that made her skin crawl. On either side of the bed stood two elite soldiers, in full uniform, silent and on constant guard. She moved to the side of the bed and knelt on a cushion on the floor. She placed a hand over his, careful of the tubes protruding from his flesh. His eyes opened with the contact. He turned his head to her.

His voice was steady but slow, "The situation here has become…too dangerous for you, daughter." She felt herself bristle, she didn't need him telling her what she could or couldn't handle, but bit her tongue and allowed him to continue. "You will go back…to New York."

 _New York._  Her heart stopped and then galloped. Could it be true? She knew the attacks from this new clan had become more severe and more calculating, but things must have escalated more than he had allowed her to be informed of to be sending her back.  _New York_ , she thought again. Dare she even imagine…dare she even hope that she might…see him? His beautiful, strange face rose up in her mind. Suddenly she felt dizzy with excitement and joy. Her eyes widened but she quickly drew a blank expression over her face while her father studied her reaction.

"Hai, Father, whatever you think is best."

He nodded weakly and raised his other hand and a man stepped from the shadows. He handed her a small bag. Inside it were several items; a passport and plane ticket along with a fake driver's license with a new identity, several other documents and a blond wig. She stared at the contents of the bag in her hands and felt a thrill run through her. Was it real? Was she dreaming?

"Karai," he said softly. She snapped her focus back to him. "Stay hidden and be safe, my daughter." She nodded, gave him a small bow and turned to go, but felt his fingers grip her hand hard. She turned back to him and his eyes were fierce.

"I will know of your…whereabouts at all times. Where you go.  _Who_  you are  _with_..." He let the implication of his meaning hang; the warning and threat plainly written in his glinting eyes.

She pulled her hand free; stared back into his eyes with frigid intensity, "Of course," she said, her voice cold and clipped.

She turned to go, clutching the bag to her chest, her heart thrumming madly behind it. As she packed she made a promise that if fate was giving her a second chance, a precious, merciful second chance to find him again; she would do anything to win his love back and no matter what, she would protect him; even giving up her life if it came to it. She only prayed that somewhere, perhaps hidden deep within his heart, he still loved her as she did him. She snapped the suitcase lock and closed her eyes; taking a deep breath, feeling like she could finally breathe after two long years.

"I'm coming back, Leonardo," she whispered. "I'm coming back to you, my love."

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Excerpt from Mikey's Girl
> 
> AAAH! I swear, you're getting closer to the big reveal regarding Donnie and April, I promise. You know I couldn't just get it out in one chapter, right? The next chapter may contain some slightly more ...um... steamy scenes so be warned. I always try to warn ahead of time. XD


	3. Party Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay - there's NO 'M' scene in this chapter...I spoke too soon with the last note, lol. Sorry, steamy scene to come later...So this is a T rated chapter as is most of my story. Forgive me any mistakes with the game, I'm no sports fan and had to pester my husband with a lot of baseball questions. I ended up leaving it vague so as not to butcher the sport! XD
> 
> Thank you to everyone taking the time to review! It means so much! I love reading your thoughts and critiques! Keep 'em coming! Please and thanks!

_I…I can't get these memories out of my mind…_

_And some kind of madness has started to evolve…_

_I…I tried so hard to let you go_

_But some kind of madness is swallowing me whole…_

- **Madness**  by Muse

 

They followed Leonardo's lead out of the lair and up and out the sewers in silence. The early evening air was sweet with the scent of the passing thunderstorm that had drenched the city that morning. Damp and cool, the breeze had a hint of a chill that cut through their sweats. April pulled her short denim jacket around her middle; tucked one lock of hair behind her ear. She unlocked the van. It was Michelangelo who broke the uneasy quiet as they climbed into the van.

"At least we won't get rained on up on the roof," he said as he squinted into the bright sky. White clouds billowed by on a strong wind high above their heads. Where they stood, only a slight gust of air kissed their faces.

Donatello held the door open for Leonardo who glanced his way and with a small shake of his head, entered the side door of the van to sit in the middle as he did on their trip to April's farm. Donatello climbed in to the passenger-side seat and sat next to April who started the van. Michelangelo sat next to Leo and Raphael sat in the back in the middle of the seat. April glanced at them all in their seats in the rear-view mirror.

"Settled?" she asked. "Ready for some fun?" Her voice was light, but they could tell she was forcing it.

"I am!" Mikey chimed in with a wide grin on his face directed at his older brother.

Raph reached over the seat and grabbed Leonardo by the shoulders and gave him a small shake.

"This is gonna be great, bro. Just wait. Fresh air, Yankees playoff game, snacks and plenty of beer! No patrollin', no trainin'…" he patted Leonardo's shoulders roughly. "Just what you need."

Leonardo knew they were all doing their best; trying to ignore his reaction to seeing Karai on the television; trying to distract him and keep his mind focused on the here and now; determined to keep him from slipping into the distant fog that enveloped him for so long after they'd brought him home. He gave a weak chuckle that was meant to reassure his family and friend, but only sounded strange in his ears. He clenched his fists inside his pockets and steadied himself. He wasn't going to let seeing her and hearing her voice ruin his birthday. But every time he closed his eyes he saw her face. Gah, he thought he was past this by now.

A jumbled mix of emotions raced through him. He swallowed against the annoying lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. Why did this still hurt so much? It was simple. He was being weak. He frowned. He needed to grow up and get over these lingering feelings of what? Regret? Shame?  _Longing_. He gritted his teeth. He wouldn't be a fool any longer. Like Splinter said, he was a man today. Time to act like one.

Uneasiness fluttered through him as the interviewer's words came back detailing the Shredder's injuries and possible motives for the attack against him. Most disturbing was when they asked her if she felt her safety was at risk. Was she being targeted as well? Again the flurry of confused emotions washed through him. He clenched his jaw. No. He didn't care, he tried to convince himself. He didn't care what happened to her. Karai and her father could go to hell for all he cared. If they took one step back into New York City he'd send them there himself. He owed it to both of them after what they put him through. In fact, he'd be happy to run his sword through them both. The vicious, vindictive thought made him feel slightly better; more in control. No wonder Raph was so preoccupied with revenge all the time. It was certainly better than feeling like some soft fool.

He shifted in his seat and started as he realized that Mikey and Raph had been talking the entire time about the game and he hadn't even realized. He shook his head and then looked out the tinted window of the van as they pulled out into the street. As they drove, he focused on the people walking, talking on cell phones, eating hot dogs off carts, tourists snapping pictures and finally as they came to a red light: a couple lost to the world in a tight embrace; kissing in the shelter of a bus stop. Blinking, he dropped his eyes to the pavement; feeling uncomfortable and intrusive and oddly exposed himself.

He couldn't stop the images that popped into his mind from his day spent arm and arm with Karai walking among the people, like a normal couple. He'd been so worried that someone was going to suddenly start screaming, or maybe pass out when they noticed his face. But to his surprise, Karai showed him that most people don't see beyond their own noses, or cell phones, or electronic gadgets to pay much attention to anyone around them. It was so exciting and fun to pretend for a while that he was just another human. Just another guy with his girl on his arm. His heart clenched as the light turned green and they left the couple behind.

He had to stop thinking about her in that way. None of it was true. It just felt that way at the time. She made it all seem…so real. He swallowed against the lump feeling more and more infuriated and disgusted with himself. Thankfully, April broke into his reverie and downward spiral of shame and self-loathing with a question.

"So, what are you guys doing again?" April asked.

"Casey's treating us to a rooftop game viewing," Mikey said from his seat where he bounced lightly to the house music playing through the speakers.

"Um…what do you mean?" April asked, confused.

"You know, the Yankees playoff game. We're gonna sit on the roof with binoculars and watch from his friend's rooftop," Raph hollered from the back over the sound of the music and Leo flinched. He'd leaned forward and ended up shouting right next to Leonardo's ear. Leo rubbed the side of his head and glared at Raph who didn't notice or care.

April frowned at him in the mirror.

"Huh," was all she said.

After a little while, they pulled up to the address Casey had left with them. April got out of the van and walked up the cement steps. She found the name on the box and rang the bell then crossed her arms. Tapping her fingers against one bicep, she turned to the van and shrugged; shook her head in annoyance. Where was he?  _Casey, you better not mess this up for Leo. He needs today._  She rang the bell again, pressing her fingertip hard against the button, then noticed an envelope sticking out of the door frame. Her name was written on it in red ink.

"What is this…" she said to herself exasperated. She ripped open the top and came down the steps and entered the van, still reading the note.

"What's up, April?" Donatello asked as he glanced at Leonardo over his shoulder. He was sitting quietly looking out the window.

"Uh, we're supposed to go to this parking lot. It seems Casey has something much bigger planned for you guys." She continued under her breath, "Where the heck he got the money for this..." she shook her head.

She handed the contents of the envelope to Donatello who read it and frowned. Inside was a note and a parking pass along with instructions for which gate to enter. Donatello held it up.

"Wait, but this is for one of the stadium lots." He looked at April. She shrugged. " _Inside_  the stadium."

"Yeah, guys, I didn't want to ruin the fun or anything," she said as she pulled back out onto the street, glancing quickly at her side mirror. "But I was going to say, you can't see into the stadium from any rooftop. That's just in Chicago, at Wrigley Field."

Donatello turned in his chair and exchanged confused looks with each of his brothers. Even Leonardo was paying attention now.

"Raph?"

He shrugged defensively. "Don't look at me, Casey told me we'd be up on the roof."

"W…We can't go to the stadium. There's gonna be thousands and thousands of people there. The roof is one thing, a stadium full of people…April…" Michelangelo's voice started to raise in panic. "I…think…I-I don't know…"

Leonardo placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "It'll be okay, Mikey," he said quietly.

Michelangelo settled back in his seat, blinking, unconvinced and feeling unsure. He chewed on his lip thoughtfully as they entered the curving roadways inside the massive parking lot.

"Holy shit," Raphael said slowly, under his breath as the stadium loomed over them. They all twisted in their seats to get a better look. It was enormous. There were people of every shape, size and color wandering around everywhere, laughing and talking. Small vendors were selling t-shirts, baseball hats and giant foam fingers, pennants and other items emblazoned with the Yankees logo.

April ducked her head looking for the right direction to take and followed the signs; carefully maneuvering the van through the rows of cars and the crowds of people. She stopped once to show the parking pass that was included in Casey's note to a security guard and the Donatello squirmed in his seat and kept his body facing the window away from the man. A group of teenagers walked past. Not one of them looking at the van or him as they did. They stopped again for directions, this time the guard glanced at her pass and pointed her in the right direction to go. She pulled into a spot dedicated for special reserved guests and turned in her seat.

"You guys okay?"

Michelangelo turned wide, fear-filled eyes to Leonardo, who glanced out the window then back to his brothers who were now all watching him with mixed expressions of worry, fear and anticipation. He felt his heart pounding, but in a good way. A small smile spread across his face and Michelangelo's eyes widened.

"You sure?" Donnie asked nervously, looking from April to his brother.

"Leo?" Mikey's voice was full of anxiety. "You're kiddin' right?"

"Well?" Raphael asked impatiently from behind him. "What do you think, bro?"

With another glance out the window, Leonardo felt his adrenaline kicking in as his heart raced.  _To hell with it._

"It's my birthday, isn't it?"

" _Yeah_  it is!" Raph grabbed his shoulders again and let out an excited  _whoop!_ He affectionately shoved the back of Michelangelo's head. "We're goin' to a Yankees  _playoff_  game!"

* * *

Leonardo walked next to April, holding his head up and moving confidently. Just as he reassured Mikey for the fifth time as they left the van, no one paid them any mind as they walked across the parking lot towards the stadium. Michelangelo kept as close as a shadow to his big brother; stepped right behind him, his feet nearly stepping on his heels. He kept glancing around full of jittery energy and fear. He giggled nervously as they passed a large group of college-aged guys and girls laughing and drinking. He felt his shoulders start to relax. It's working, he thought and felt a rush of glee like nothing else he'd ever felt before. He wondered if this was what it felt like to walk right among the zombies just as the characters did in his favorite horror show on cable.

Raphael and Donatello were right behind them. Shoulder to shoulder, the two walked in nervous silence. Their bodies buzzed with adrenaline and excitement. The five of them moved on towards the gate that Casey's note told them to proceed to. Before long, a familiar shout was heard.

"Hey," Casey raised his hands up, a Yankees cap obscured his eyes, "'bout time you guys got here. I was beginnin' to get worried that April got lost  _again_."

She huffed at the jab; stuck her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and looked anywhere but at Casey.

"Would've been helpful if I knew ahead of time that we were coming here and not your friend's apartment," she said testily and he ignored her.

He stepped around her, pointedly ignoring Donatello's presence, and clapped Leonardo on the shell. He leaned down and smiled at his face from under the brim of his cap. "Happy birthday, Leo. C'mon, let's get a move on before they start the national anthem."

He ushered them past several security guards who, without paying much attention, waved them through the metal detectors. Luckily, April had thought ahead of time and had them leave any weapons on them in the van before they left it. No one had brought their full ninja weapons, but Leo kept a dagger with him at all times and Mikey and Raph had a few throwing stars they dumped on the floor and kicked under the seat.

People swarmed around them as they moved up and through the crowds, following Casey and keeping as low a profile as possible. No one said anything except for the occasional gasp of awe that came from each of the turtles as another wonder of being at the stadium hit them. April took it all in as she imagined what it must have seemed like to the guys. She'd been to many games and had gotten used to the sights and sounds but now, she could only imagine what it must have been like for them. The sounds, the smells, the people! All of it had to be so overwhelming.

Casey slid a card through a box that opened a door and April gasped. He'd gotten them a  _skybox_? She stepped through the doorway, her mouth hanging open. A  _private_  skybox? She turned to question him about it and how exactly did he afford such an extravagance as the guys dashed past her to look out the tinted windows. Mikey and Raph cried out in astonishment and joy like two small kids on Christmas morning. Leonardo stepped quietly next to them and took it in, breathless and speechless. The field was so beautiful and the stadium was amazing.

Donatello stayed close to April, but looked over his brothers' heads to admire the view; keeping one wary eye on Casey. He decided he'd stay close to April in case their bickering got out of hand and to make sure nothing too rude was said to her. This would be the first time the three of them were forced to spend any length of time together at all since their fight last summer. Donatello couldn't help but expect trouble. Honestly, he was itching for a rematch. Casey had taken him off guard that morning. He clenched his jaw and looked at Leo's back. He sighed. Maybe another day he'd get his chance, but still, he was going to stick near April just to be there if she needed him.

April crossed her arms over her chest, narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to say something as Casey stood smiling smugly with both hands propped behind his head. Before she could say anything, a squeal erupted from the buffet table to her right. Everyone except Raphael turned to look at the curly-haired blonde woman who emitted the shrill sound and then launched herself at Casey. She wrapped her arms around his neck, a beer bottle held precariously by the tip of her middle finger stuck inside it. She wore a dark blue sweater that hung off one of her shoulders and denim shorts that were cut too short for the pockets which hung from the bottom of the ragged edge.

"What took so long, baby? I was waiting forever!"

"Aw, well I'm back now, sugar." They kissed deeply then Casey broke away from her mouth. He looked up; lips smeared pink by the woman's red lipstick.

"Uh, guys, this is Bonnie," Casey said after receiving several kisses on the mouth and down one side of his neck. Bonnie, still hanging off Casey, glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

"Hi!"

Michelangelo waved in numb shock from where he stood next to Raphael. Leo stood like someone in a lineup, still and tense. Raphael only glanced over his shoulder nodded and muttered something about Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez. Donatello looked from the curvy blonde rubbing up against Casey back to April next to him. He could feel the fury coming off of April in waves. The air around her vibrated with it. That she was so angry he could understand, but it still hurt him. He knew he was being stupid, but the pain was there, sharp and somewhat humiliating. Of course she still felt something for Casey. Otherwise this wouldn't have upset her quite so much. The cold fact of the situation only served to make him hurt more. He pushed away his feelings. He needed to focus on April and keeping her from getting hurt. Not that Casey would strike her, but if April launched herself at him, there'd at least be a scuffle. He braced himself for an explosion; got ready to jump between them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Leonardo was now closer. Still standing tensely but quietly, only on the other side of the row of leather seats. Donatello wanted to tell him to back off, that he had this. April wouldn't get hurt with him right there. His eyes went to April. To his amazement, her shoulders dropped and nothing happened. The electricity he was feeling a moment ago fizzled out. April's nostrils flared, she closed her eyes in a long, slow blink and then smiled. Her eyes glittered dangerously.

"Nice to meet you, Bonnie. Can I have a word with Casey for a sec?" she asked sweetly.

Casey wiped his mouth and crossed his arms as Bonnie slid from him. "Sure, gotta run to the bathroom anyway," she said to the room and scurried out a door off to one side of the loaded buffet table.

April advanced on Casey and stood inches from him. "Are you crazy? What are you thinking? What about the guys?" she hissed in an angry whisper; swinging her arm out indicating the turtles behind her.

Casey waved her away, and moved to the table. He picked up a beer from a bucket full of ice and bottles and tossed it to Mikey who handed it to Raph, who took it without looking, still his eyes were on the field and the players taking their places. Ah, sports, the only thing besides busting heads that absorbed Raphael's full and complete attention.

"Chill. She's cool." Casey shrugged. Then shook his head. "I told her they'd be in costume." His face split into a half smile, "Seriously, I told her that that's their thing when it comes to going to playoff games."

"And she  _bought_  it?" April asked, her voice thick with disbelief. Casey shrugged and bobbed his head to one side, his face puckered into a wry grin. She went on, "Not too bright, huh? Well, I'm not surprised."

He twisted the lid, threw the bottle back, took a quick swig then tipped the bottle in her direction.

"Only date the dumb ones, but you know that, April."

Donatello gritted his teeth and cleared his throat as April took one step in Casey's direction. He straightened, still looking smug and unimpressed with her anger. The look in his eye told Donatello he'd been expecting a scene, looking forward to one. Well, Donatello wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. He gently steered April towards the leather seats. She shot one more glare in Casey's direction. He winked at her and Donnie felt her arms tremble with fury.

Once that was over, everyone settled into the soft leather chairs and watched the playoff game unfold. Casey sat with Bonnie settled over his lap next to Leonardo who was at one end of the row and April at the furthest opposite end. Raphael sat in the middle between Casey and Michelangelo. Donatello next to April. Through it all, Raphael jumped to his feet, screamed at the top of his lungs, grabbed Michelangelo in a head lock and fell to his knees in agony at one point. During a particularly tense play, Michelangelo and Raphael were jumping up and down like two school girls, clutching each other's arms. Leonardo didn't know what was more entertaining, the game or the antics of his brothers. Bonnie continued to get up and offer everyone snacks and drinks. She was actually very nice and only gave them curious glances in between sticking her tongue down Casey's throat and running her hands all over the front of his chest. Leonardo did his best to ignore the couple next to him.

April sat stiffly with her arms crossed over her chest and one knee bobbing up and down; staring at the game with an intense focus like it was a holy revelation. But Leonardo knew she was absorbing every move Bonnie made with Casey out of the corner of her eye. And from the brief glances he gave them along with the soft moaning sounds Bonnie was making, they were putting on quite a show. He noticed Donatello had the same strained look on his face as he continued to watch the game; only flicking his gaze towards April to gauge her reaction to Casey and Bonnie every other second. He rubbed a hand over his face. What a mess this was.

Bonnie appeared suddenly and crouched next to him. She had big brown eyes and an upturned nose. Her hair hung over her shoulders in large bouncy curls and couldn't have been much older than eighteen. She was pretty in her own way, he thought. She smiled shyly at him and offered him an open bottle of beer. He glanced at it and felt his stomach turn. Since the day that Shredder forced him to drink the bottles of alcohol he could barely look at anything alcoholic let alone drink it. He raised one hand shook his head firmly no. Her eyes focused on his hand.

"Cool! How did you make this?" she asked as she grabbed his hand, setting the bottle aside.

Before he could move she had it between her small hands, turning it over and stroking his palm. She pressed and squeezed his fingers between her own and giggled. His eyes shot to Casey for help. Casey was watching him with a wide smile planted across his face and an odd, calculating look in his eyes. He jumped as she slid her fingers up and under his sleeve towards his elbow and scrunched up her nose with a shiver.

"Ooh, I like the way it feels! What is that made of?" she asked breathlessly.

He felt the blush creep up his cheeks and a warmth spread through his body. He tried to gently pull free. She got the hint and reluctantly released him. He looked up and noticed that everyone was staring at the two of them. Everyone except Raphael, who was now pressed up against the glass and swearing at the third baseman to pay attention. April looked furious. Leonardo scrambled up from the seat and mumbled, "bathroom." He heard Casey chuckle as he bolted to the bathroom.

He splashed water on his face and frowned at his reflection in the mirror. One draw-back to having been intimate with Karai was that he'd now experienced what it felt like to be with a woman. Something he'd never thought was possible; something out of a forbidden, secret dream. Yes, he was part reptilian, but he was also part human and that part of him yearned to touch her body again; to feel her warmth and breathe in her scent; ached for that moment he'd shared with her. He'd struggled with the consuming need and had barely managed to keep his desire in check with meditation and heavy training along with the occasional ice-cold showers. But it hadn't been easy. At times it seemed like it was the only thing his obsessed mind could focus on. He rubbed his forehead; took a shuddering breath. Bonnie was not helping.

* * *

Hours later the game came to a heart-stopping finale with the Yankees winning and securing their place in the next round of playoffs. The night air was crisp and full of the sounds of ecstatic Yankees fans celebrating. Raphael was thoroughly drunk and Leonardo didn't keep track, but he suspected that Michelangelo had drunk more than a few bottles as well by the way his words kept slurring and his feet kept stumbling along. The two of them leaned heavily on each other for support as they walked and replayed some of the exciting moments of the game.

Bonnie hollered playfully and jumped up onto Casey's back and he gave her a piggy-back ride down the ramp towards the exit. She pulled his baseball cap off and put it on her head backwards. She nibbled his ear all the way as he chuckled. Donatello was April's shadow walking just to the right and behind her. He jumped as he felt her hand snake around his arm. She pulled in close to his body whispered something into his ear and he nodded. Leonardo scanned the area as he walked slowly a bit behind the group, just to make sure there was no danger about; all the while feeling a little lonely. Most of the crowds had thinned by the time they made it to van in the parking lot.

"Thank you, Casey," Leo said and had to stop himself from bowing. He didn't want to draw any attention to them by doing something as unusual as bowing. Though, looking around, the lot was pretty empty and the few people milling towards their vehicles weren't paying much attention to anyone but themselves.

"Hold up," he tossed keys to Bonnie and she unlocked the black pick-up truck parked not far from the van. "We're just getting started." He turned to April. She looked at him, confused. "Get them back over to the apartment." He wagged his eyebrows at her and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why?" she asked simply.

He threw his arm around Leonardo's shoulders before he could get into the van. "Cuz, it's his twenty-first birthday. And he needs to celebrate it properly. Now get moving." He patted Leo's shell and turned to go, then spun on his heel, he pointed to April. "You'll…probably want to just drop them and go."

The guys were climbing inside the van. She raised an eyebrow then crossed her arms and looked at him suspiciously.

"And why is that?" she asked. He only smirked at her some more. She also wanted to ask him about affording the private sky-box but Bonnie honked the horn from the truck behind him. He rolled his eyes but smiled crookedly. He resembled a pirate the way he was standing there looking like he was only up to mischief and loving every minute of it.

"She's adorable," April said snidely. "What is she, like twelve?"

Casey placed a hand over his heart and said, "Oh-ho-ho, that hurts." He stomped a boot down on the pavement for emphasis. His hands moved to his hips. He held a triumphant look on his face that April didn't care for. She wanted to hurt him, but seemed to be playing right into his hand. She went to say something else but bit her tongue.

"Been having fun with purple?" he asked in a low voice. His eyes lost all mirth and took on a mean looking edge.

Enough of this. She glowered at him and got in the van; slamming the door. Casey stood in the same spot as she pulled the van around him, spinning the tires as she drove. The expression on his face was a mix of regret and anger.

* * *

April stood outside the apartment, feeling foolish and indecisive. Donatello hesitated as his brothers followed Casey and Bonnie inside. He turned. April shook the keys in one hand and stared at the sidewalk. She turned to get back inside the van. Donatello hurried down the steps. He placed one hand on the hood of the van and tipped his head towards hers.

"Hey," he said.

She looked at him then at the ground. "I think I'm done for the night, Donnie," she said softly.

"Oh, uh." He rubbed the back of his head; glanced at the door and then back at her. He felt split in two. He wanted to stay with Leonardo and celebrate with his brother, but he wanted to stay with April as well. Indecision gnawed at him and kept him from moving forward or back. He stood rooted to the sidewalk feeling nervous and guilty and frustrated.

"I'm just going to go home," she said with a shake of her head. Then she paused, her eyes raised up to his, "Want to come with?" she asked quietly and his heart stopped.

* * *

Inside, Michelangelo gawked at the lavish furniture, coming to a full stop in front of the television set that made up almost the entirety of the living room wall. Bonnie skipped past him into the hallway that lead to several bedrooms and the kitchen and dining room. Raphael whistled as he gazed about the surroundings.

"Casey, how the heck do you know this guy again?"

Casey vaulted over the back of the black leather couch and snatched the remote from the glass coffee table. He flicked on the television set to another game. It filled the screen in brilliant hi-definition. Raphael sat on one end of the sofa, draped his arm over the back. Michelangelo picked up a vase from a shelf and Leonardo carefully took it out from his hands and set it back down. He turned Mikey to face the other sofa and had him sit. He took a seat in a winged reading chair. He raised his eye brows as he sunk into the soft leather cushion.

"I told ya, been busting some heads for these guys and well…I told my boss a friend of mine was turning twenty-one today and he gave me the tickets and tells me to go have some fun."

He sat up turned the television to a station only playing loud dance music and put the remote down. Bonnie came into the room with several beer bottles between her fingers. Her hips swayed along to the pumping music.

"There's my girl," Casey gave her a playful wink and took a drink from her then tipped it back.

As she passed the bottles around to his brothers, she bent over in front of Leonardo. She turned around quickly and smiled at Leonardo as he quickly dropped his eyes away. A dark blush colored his cheeks. He cleared his throat and stared at the floor between her now bare feet where he should have been looking all along, he chided himself. She tilted her head, trying to catch his eye again and offered him a beer. Once more he shook his head and settled back deeper into the chair.

"Leo, don't you wanna have one?" Raph asked from across the room. Suddenly, everyone was staring at him. "Can't you just have one with your brother on your twenty-first birthday?" he pleaded.

He stared at the proffered bottle and slowly took it in his hand. Raphael sat up and raised his bottle to Leonardo. A wide smile was plastered across his face.

"To the best big brother a guy could ask for!" Leonardo quirked an eyebrow up at that. Yes, Raphael was definitely drunk off his rocker. He was notoriously affectionate when inebriated.

Everyone chimed together, "Happy birthday, Leo!"

"Here, here!" Mikey hollered and Leonardo thought he'd need to keep an eye on him the rest of the night. There were too many breakable items covering the shelves in this place. They tipped their bottles back and reluctantly he raised his to his mouth.

_The glass clicked painfully against his teeth and mouth as Shredder shoved the bottle inside. He tasted blood. The liquid burned so much as it flooded his mouth and poured down his throat. The men laughed at him as he coughed and sputtered and struggled against their hold._

He dropped the bottle away from his mouth; hand shaking. No, he couldn't do it. Just the smell made his stomach turn. Relieved that no one noticed he was shaking and he didn't drink anything, he stared at the thick rug beneath the coffee table. A knock on the door had Casey jumping up to his feet. Leo moved to get up and Raphael shot a confused look to Casey.

"Relax, guys!" He patted the air and turned to Bonnie who jumped up and clapped. "Well, babe, I think your friends are here." He twisted and smiled a wicked grin in Leonardo's direction. His eyes danced with mischievous glee. "Now it's a party."

Bonnie ran out of the room down the short hallway that led to the front door. Leonardo and Raphael exchanged glances with Michelangelo as they heard the door open. Voices full of tittering laughter filled the air; female voices. Leonardo was on his feet in a second, followed by Raphael who swayed dangerously to one side but righted himself. Michelangelo was frozen in place, blinking as if trying to figure out a hard math equation.

Two women entered the room followed by Bonnie. One was slim and tall with long, straight, black hair; the other was slightly shorter with blonde wavy hair and heavy bangs. They both wore short black skirts. The slick-looking material glinted in the light. The brunette had a deep purple tank top that barely covered her ample chest and exposed her midriff and pierced belly-button. She had tattoos running up both arms and multiple piercings in her left brow and ear lobes. The blonde had a bright red top made of some fuzzy fabric that hung off both her shoulders. Black bra straps went up and around her shoulders. Bonnie squeezed in between them and smiled widely at Leonardo and his brothers. All the women started to giggle as they took in the occupants. The room practically buzzed with the energy they brought.

"Neat." The blonde said.

"Really cool," said the brunette as her eyes roved over them.

Leonardo shot a look at Casey, "What is this?" he asked angrily.

"Hold up!" Bonnie said before Casey could answer him. "Aren't you going to introduce my friends to yours?" she asked and bit her lip as her gaze fell back to Leo who took a step back.

Casey shook his head, barking with laughter, apparently this was the most amazingly funny situation ever. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand as his laughter settled into chuckling. He moved to the center of the room between where Raph and Leo were standing. Michelangelo sat just behind him, mouth hanging open.

"Right. Okay. That there," he pointed to Leo, "is Birthday Boy, Bonnie." He winked at her and she stared at Leonardo with a look that made him swallow nervously. He snapped his fingers at the blonde.

"Annie," she said.

"Annie, this guy here behind me is Chubbsie MaGoo…"

Mikey frowned and said, "Hey! I-" But if he was going to say anything else, he was stopped with the look the blonde was giving him as she bit her bottom lip.

Casey went on, indicating Raphael, "…and over there is Grump-ass, Charlotte. Charlotte, right?"

The brunette nodded and turned her green eyes towards Raphael and stared at him intensely. He took a step back and his heel hit the back of the couch painfully. Casey smacked his hands together and started to laugh as the girls broke up and moved to each of the guys.

"Have fun!" he cried over his shoulder as he walked out of the room towards the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, that devil, Casey XD


	4. Memories and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter you've been waiting for...JUST what the heck happened in that barn? Read on my darlings...

* * *

_'You have broken me all the way down_

_Down upon my knees_

_And you have broken me all the way now_

_You'll be the last, you'll see.'_  – **All The Way Down** by Glen Hansard

* * *

Donatello strummed his fingers on top of his knee until he realized what he was doing and stopped. He folded his hands then changed his mind and crossed his arms before settling on dropping his hands to his lap. If April noticed his nervous fidgeting as she drove to her apartment, she gave no indication. He did his best not to stare at her, but the corner of his eye was fixed on her, trying to decipher any shift or change in her expression that would give away what she was thinking. The Pretenders were belting out I'll Stand By You on the radio. He glanced at April as they came to the part of … _'when you're standing at the crossroads, don't know which way to choose, let me come along, 'cuz even if you're wrong, I'll stand by you'_ …

The van came to a jerking stop in front of a row of brick buildings that made up April's block. She snapped off the radio as Chrissie Hynde's voice rose and turned off the ignition. Without even a glance in his direction she got out of her seat and slammed the door shut. Donatello unbuckled his seat belt and not for the first time questioned if this was where he should be right now. She crossed in front of the hood and turned to look in his direction. She motioned with her head for him to come on and he didn't have to be asked twice. He got out and straightened the bottom of his blue sweatshirt. He followed her up to her apartment and inside the doorway. He crossed the living room and stood for a moment wondering what he should do.

"You want some coffee?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sure. Yeah, that'll be great."

He glanced at the clock on her wall. It was after eleven o'clock. So, who needs sleep? Besides, maybe she was planning on staying up all night with him anyway. A heated image popped into his mind. One that he'd fantasized about too many times to admit, even to himself. Her head thrown back against white silken pillows; her skin covered in a sheen of sweat; him kissing her exposed neck, moving lower as she moaned his name…He cleared his throat and chastised himself.

 _Never gonna happen. Why torture yourself?_   _Besides, that's not why she asked you here, bonehead._

He glanced towards the kitchen, fingers picking at his thumbnail of his other hand nervously. But then, why did she? A cabinet slammed in the kitchen and he approached with caution. She was certainly not in a pleasant mood. Maybe he could change that.

"Need any help?" he asked timidly. When she shook her head, he sat at the kitchen table. A red checked tablecloth was spread over it. In the center was a vase filled with wilted flowers. Looking at them made him sad. He turned his attention back to April as she filled two mugs and set them on the table. The black liquid steamed before him. The aroma was nutty and comforting.

"Mind if we go sit in the living room? I need something comfy to sit on and these kitchen chairs just don't cut it."

He gave a small smile and nodded and followed her back into the living room. She set her mug on the coffee table and fell onto the sofa. He discreetly sat on the further end; holding his mug between two hands nested between his knees. He raised the mug and blew on the surface then sipped. The caffeine seeped into his system and he felt better instantly. Who the hell needs sleep anyway, he thought again as he took a bigger drink. The heat filled his mouth and it was so good.

"I can't believe him," she blurted, breaking the silence. He looked at her then dropped his eyes to the mug in his hands. "I mean, really, bringing that bimbo along? What was that all about?" she asked as if she really didn't know. She sat up, folding her legs and feet beneath her. She pointed at him. "He put you guys in danger." She jutted her chin out and pressed her lips together waiting for his response.

Donatello, loathe to disagree with her, opened his mouth anyway. Maybe the caffeine was interrupting the brain waves that transmit common sense.

"Well," he chuckled, "I think we could've taken her if it came to that."

His attempt at humor died a slow horrible death beneath her withering glare. He tried a different tack. He shrugged.

"What difference does it make?" She only frowned at him. He went on, though something was shrieking in the back of his mind to shut the hell up. "It's not like you're…with him anymore," he finished feebly. He really wished right then that he had the ability to curl up into his shell and hide from the look she leveled his way with that observation on her relationship status.

She crossed her arms. "It doesn't matter to me," she said flatly. "No, we're done. We've been done. And I'm glad that I'm not…with him." She sat back and huffed. After an uncomfortable silence, she added, "He's such a jerk." She paused. She smacked her thighs. The sound loud in the room. "Ugh, he drives me  _crazy_. The only reason he brought that girl along was to piss me off." She shook her head hard.

Donatello blinked as what she said sunk in. Okay, that was about enough for him. He set his coffee down feeling the anger rising up in his chest.

"It sure did the trick," he snapped. She looked at him, a mix of shock and hurt flashed across her face.

He softened instantly, backpedaling, "D-Don't let him get to you, April. He's always been a jerk. I don't know what you ever even  _saw_  in him."

She bristled at that last bit. "Maybe it's just that I'm an idiot. He did say he only dates the dumb ones."

This time Donatello bristled. His mouth opened then closed. He clenched his jaw as annoyance clamored over his attempt to placate her. He braced both his hands on his knees and turned to her. Brown eyes darkened with irritation.

"C'mon, April. Are you really gonna let some stupid comment he made get to you all night?" He snapped, then noticed her foot began to bounce on the rug. Not a good sign. "Let's talk about something else."

"Fine," she said, voice tight. Uh oh. Another bad sign.

He glanced around desperately for something to use to change the subject. He reached for his mug, took a sip and said, "Coffee's good."

He smiled but it wavered and fell away as she continued to bounce her leg and stare at the opposite wall. This was not going well at all. But what did he expect? His heart sank and the coffee left a bitter aftertaste in the back of his throat. He set the mug down again, his stomach burning. It was obvious that she still had feelings for Casey. He leaned his elbows on his knees and sighed. He glanced sideways at her.

"April…I don't know what you want to hear from me. Ever since last summer…" he began and her face flew his way. He swallowed and plowed onward despite the look of warning she was giving him. "That night we spent…" his throat caught, "…in the barn." Her shining eyes met his. Panic and fear flashed across her face, then anger. She stood up; started to walk briskly out of the room.

"I don't want to talk about that."

He pressed his mouth closed, cowed for a moment by her discomfort and ire, but then he stood up angrily. How long was she going to do this to him? Why wouldn't she talk to him? Enough was enough already.

"Well, I do." He shouted and leapt over the coffee table; raced up behind her; grabbed her arm, forcing her spin around to face him. He stared at her face; her flashing eyes filled with tears; her flushed cheeks; trembling lips. She yanked her arm but he held it firmly in his strong grasp. Her green eyes flicked between his. Their breath came in shallow and heavy. She was so beautiful. Overcome, he released her arm but wrapped his arms around her back; pulled her tightly to him and pressed his mouth to her lips. For a glorious moment she leaned into him, but only for a moment. She broke away, shaking her head and shoved his shoulders back.

"No!"

He clung to the sides of her shirt as she shoved him again, punching his plastron in frustration when he didn't move. Desperation, lust and grief warred in his shining eyes as he stared at her. He stepped back, but clung to her still.

 _"April-"_ His voice cracked.

She shook her head harder. "No!" She cut him off before he could speak. She shoved him back with all her might and this time he stumbled, the heel of his shoe catching on the edge of her throw rug; her shirt tore a little at one seam as he staggered, still holding onto the fabric. She glanced down at it and then at him. Irate now. She pointed to the door.  _"Get out!"_  she shouted the words at him.

He righted himself; stepped closer to her, hands extended. "April, I…I didn't mean…I wasn't going to…to…"

She lurched away from him. The expression on her face was a mix of utter outrage and fury. The idea that she would even think for one second that he'd do something as horrible as forcing himself on her crushed his heart. He couldn't believe this was happening. How could she look at him like that? He felt sick. It was just a kiss. His chest tightened with dread and shameful regret. He was so stupid! He didn't mean to scare her. He had to make this right. Somehow, he'd make this up to her. He licked his lips; raised his hands up in surrender.

"April,  _please_." he pleaded desperately. "Y…You know that I would never… _never_ … _hurt you_." The last two words came out in an agonized whisper. Didn't she know that by now?

"Just get out!" She stomped her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. She repeated herself when he didn't move. "Get  _out_  of here, Donatello."

His full name was like a curse to his ears. He dropped his head; eyes clenched tight. Chest heaving, heart pounding, he stepped back, then fled out of her living room and out from her sight as fast as he could go. The door slammed closed behind him.

As soon as she was alone, she dropped to the floor and started to cry. All her anger melted into her salty tears.  _What just happened?_  She was never really mad at Donatello to begin with. It was Casey's fault she'd been so upset. Donnie was just here to take the brunt of it. Just as he always was. She ran her hands through her hair; bit her lip in frustration. Why did she always take it out on him? He always made it so easy to do so.

_He's gonna think I hate him._

When the truth was the complete opposite. She rested her forehead against her arm. She loved him. Oh, god, it was true, she thought with a sob. She'd known for a long time that her feelings somewhere along the line had become something more than just the brotherly relationship she'd had with his siblings. But it was something she couldn't face. Something she'd buried; hid away from everyone, including herself.

The night at the farmhouse when Casey accidentally called her from the strip club made her realize there was someone right next to her who would never take her for granted. All these years pushing him away and still he stayed devoted and caring towards her. Only when she'd tried to wedge Casey between him and her feelings did things really change between them. She knew she'd hurt him. But what was she supposed to do? She couldn't accept her own deepening feelings for him, there was no way she'd be able to deal with his for her. April sniffed and reached over to the coffee table and pulled a tissue from the box sitting there. Her eyes fell on his mug of cooling coffee. She blinked as more tears spilled from the corners of her eyes.

Yes, she loved him more than she'd ever loved anyone or anything ever before in her life. And it scared her. Scared the hell out of her. He was a mutant. She was a human. There was just no way. No way it could ever work. She leaned her arms on top of the coffee table; the surface cool against her bare skin. She raised a tear-streaked face to stare at his mug again and sniffled.

_I don't hate you, Donnie. I could never hate you._

She dropped her head down. What was she going to do? Memories of the previous summer flooded into her mind.

* * *

She'd been so angry with Casey. But, really, it was nothing new. The two of them were constantly butting heads. They had nothing in common except for their friendship with the turtles. She tried to make it work. And Casey had taken everything they'd tried to build and just threw it away. Just like that. She knew it was over. The minute she heard Sean laughing in the background and that sleazy music. She knew where he was and that he'd broken another promise. It was over. End of story. She wasn't going to take being treated like this any longer.

She didn't remember all the details, but Donatello had been there, talked her out of flinging her engagement ring into the darkness. April was glad he did. She had much satisfaction shoving it into Casey's face two weeks later and marching out on him; leaving him gripping and stumbling at the park fountain where they had met to talk.

But that night at the farm…she remembered the meteors streaking across the sky. Donnie explaining what they were and going on and on about the constellations. She shook her head, smiling with the memory. He was always doing that. So full of information he was nearly bursting with it. He was always so interesting to be around. Nothing bored him. Everything was potentially an experiment or simply held fascination for him. And that's how he saw her, she knew. She saw it clearly in his eyes, every time he looked at her, though he'd tried to hide it. That night was no different. She was hurt, drunk and angry and like today she took it out on the one person who'd never hurt her in any way. The one person who was always there for her, waiting to catch her fall, keep her from harm, no matter the time or day.

She led him into the barn and up into the hay loft. The double doors were open wide exposing the night sky and the heavenly show in all its glory. He lit the lantern and set it near them. The flickering light danced in his chocolate eyes as he stared intently at her watching the stars. She smiled as she caught him staring from the corner of her eye. Slowly, she turned her head to him and inched and scooted closer to where he sat in one corner of the small space, up against a mound of yellow hay. He cleared his throat and cast around nervously only stopping and becoming still as a statue once she leaned her back into his body between his legs. For a few minutes they sat like that. His body motionless and rigid almost as if he were terrified of moving. But slowly as she snuggled into him, he relaxed. Carefully, he rested one hand on top of her shoulder.

She felt his breath against the side of her neck as she tilted her head; felt his heart hammering against her back. They sat like this for hours, him whispering about the stars and ancient stories of heroes while he played with the locks of her hair. It felt so nice to let go of the anger and be at peace. He always made her feel so good. She floated along listening to him in a billowing cloud of bliss. He had answers to everything she asked, murmuring them in that voice of his. She loved the sound of it; his gentle voice. It would catch in his throat as her fingers trailed down his thigh to his knee pad and back up again. Every time she'd felt a small tremor run through him and she'd smile to herself.

The night deepened and she knew she was driving him crazy. In the back of her mind, she knew it was wrong. That she shouldn't use him this way not when she was hurt from her upcoming break-up with the guy she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with; not when her own feelings about Donatello were so confused and frightening. But no one knew where they were. The world slept in ignorance beyond the open window of the hay loft. She could let her fear go; being with him right now felt so good, so comforting. It was what she really wanted all along. She looked up over her shoulder into his eyes, glittering in the starlight, no, she wanted more. She reached up and stroked his cheek; she knew he'd give her all she wanted.

She shifted and turned. His face was flushed with a deep blush and his eyes were glassy with desire. He looked sorry that she was moving but the sorrow was suddenly replaced with fear and yearning as she leaned closer to him. He looked like he'd decided to say something. He opened his mouth but she placed a finger over it.

"Shh. I want to tell you something."

 _"Y-You do?"_ he whispered.

She nodded and leaned fully into him, pressing her body into his and bringing her mouth up to the side of his face. She said softly, "I want you." She felt his body stiffen and his grip on her arms tighten. He quivered beneath her.

"A-April… _what_?"

His breath suddenly came fast and shallow. She could feel his heart hammering furiously beneath her palm. She slowly traced her hand down the front of him. Slipping below his belt, down to the bottom of his plastron. His body became rigid and his breath hitched and caught in his throat. She pressed and explored him. He let out a small sound and jumped as she prodded and he scrambled to move her hands away. He held her wrists gently, but firmly at her sides. He panted and quickly licked his lips; shook his head briefly.

"I…N-No. I don't think th-this is a good idea," he said, but as he did his face held a desperately sad expression.

"Why not?" she purred.

"Wh-Why not?" he repeated breathlessly. "Hm…uh…W-Well…" He blinked rapidly and with his mouth hanging open he looked all around the loft as if the answer to her question was hidden in one of the rafters. The walls and ceiling gave him nothing. Her hands slipped free and she began to stroke his legs.

"Uh…um…huhummm…Maybe…we sh-should go back to the h-house," he suggested and she smiled up at him in a way that he'd only fantasized about before. His throat worked and his eyes grew round. "You are…probably dehydrated from all that..." Her fingers slid to the inside of his thighs as she caressed. "Please d-don't do that…all that beer is dehydrating…very bad… _oh, April_ …I really…um…ohhh…uh… _yes_ ,  _please_ …" he whimpered, "mhmmm…ohhh…"

His body shuddered as he moaned with pleasure. His eyes shot open in horror as he realized what he'd just done. Face flushed deeply, he looked down then up at her wide-eyed shocked expression. Bringing his hands to quickly cover himself, he twisted away from her.

 _Oh god, NO! NO!_  This did not happen! He just let himself release, exposing himself to her!  _Oh god!_  What was he  _thinking_? Maybe she didn't notice. As he rolled away trying to hide himself she reached over to touch his shoulder.

"Don- AAAAaaaiiieeee!" she shrieked and he flinched.

 _Oh god! She noticed! Of course she noticed!_  His voice joined with her scream. " _AAH_!  _AAAH!_  I'msorry-I'msorry!  _I'msosososorry!"_

April was on her feet doing this strange hopping-jumping dance as she gestured crazily with her finger at him. Her other hand against the side of her head. Her face a mask of terror. He knew their anatomy was unlike humans, but from what he'd seen online, there wasn't really that much of a difference. He swallowed, feeling sick and slightly offended, she didn't have to be terrified of it. Just as his feelings really started to hurt she blurted out a word.

_"_ _**SPIDER** _ _!"_

"Sp…?" He stared at her for a second, baffled.

Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. He watched the hairy legs in frozen terror as it crawled its way slowly over his shoulder. It wasn't just a spider. No, this was the grand-pappy of all spiders. The terror of all arachnophobics' worst nightmares. It was HUGE. It was THE Spider that scared the crap out of Raph the other day. 

 _Hm, I wonder what species it is_ …he briefly thought before coming to his senses and jumping up, shaking it off with a horrified shudder and running to April. They held each other's arms and both scrambled back and nearly fell out of the window together. The spider skittered at an alarmingly fast pace across the floor in front of them then over the side of the loft to find a new hiding spot to await it's next victim.

April and Donnie exchanged terrified looks. Then burst out laughing until tears fell from their eyes. Still cracking up, the two of them made their way down the ladder.

"That was the biggest spider I have ever seen! And I live in the sewers," he panted in between guffaws. "We get a lot of spiders down there. I mean, I actually don't blame Raph for his reaction the other day!"

"You should've seen you're face, Donnie! When you spotted it, Oh my GOD!" April cried out between gasps of laughter.

She wrapped her arm over his shoulders and he leaned into her as he wiped a tear from one corner of his eye, still giggling, then wrapped his arm around her waist. They smiled at each other as their laughter simmered down to fits of giggles. They stepped into the morning light, just as the sound of spinning tires on gravel reached them.

* * *

"Donnie, I'm sorry," April said to her empty apartment. "I'm going to do better, I promise."

* * *

Donatello raced across the rooftops. He didn't know where he was going. He just wanted to get away from her. Away from her and the memory of her accusing expression. Get away from the pain. Caught in an internal storm of fury and despair he ran on and on. He panted through gritted teeth; leapt from one parapet to another, his foot slipping on the still damp edge from the morning's rains. The gym shoes covering his feet only made it harder to find purchase as he leapt again to a fire escape. The bottom of his shoe squeaked against the metal railing as he slipped again. He scrambled with wide eyes and grabbed the bar before he fell. Struggling he pulled himself up; stumbling he fell onto the roof in a heap of exhaustion and shaking rage.

He sat up and yanked off one shoe and launched it as hard as he could into the alley between buildings. Somewhere below a garbage can crashed as it landed. Then he did the same with the other shoe. He pulled off the socks and bundled them in an angry ball and threw that too. He huffed and panted as he paced along the roof. He rubbed the base of his palms hard against his tearing eyes. He had to calm down. He had to get himself under control. At least the logical portion of his brain was urging him to. Unfortunately, he was a swirling ball of emotional upheaval at the moment.

Dammit. He was so stupid. God, he was a complete imbecile. Why did he go with her? Why did he ever think it was a good idea? He saw the way she reacted while Casey fondled that girl. Why did he keep doing this to himself? Why did he keep believing he had a chance with her?  _Why?!_

 _"GAH! I fucking_ _ **HATE**_ _you Casey!"_ he screamed into the black sky above him.

He turned and threw his fist. It went through a small glass window in one wall of the stairwell shed on the roof. The glass exploded in a shattering cloud of shimmering shards. He pulled it out, hissing in pain, dragging his flesh through the broken points glass that remained along the frame. Rivulets of blood streamed from multiple lacerations along his arm and back of his hand. He opened and closed his fingers; shook his hand absentmindedly.

Well, that really didn't help anything. Now his hand and arm hurt along with his head and heart. He didn't understand what Raph got out of these tantrums at all. He sniffled. Well, maybe he felt a little better. A tear trickled down his cheek as he looked out over the sky, his arm cradled by his uninjured hand.

"No more of this madness," he said to himself. "I'm done."

Despite his vow, his traitorous mind replayed the moment when April leaned into his kiss. His first fumbling attempt at initiating a  _real_  kiss with April ended up as a forced attempt on the woman of his dreams to make her love him. His eyes clenched shut as the thought struck him. His breath came in a hiccup followed by a broken sob as he moved clumsily down to the alley below. Heartsick and miserable, he slipped into the awaiting darkness, his pounding head, aching heart and throbbing wrist accompanying him.

* * *


	5. All Creatures Great and Small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long Chapter - Hope you enjoy! Some steam below, nothing too gratuitous! I couldn't resist these quotes XD Steve Martin and Woody Allen are awesome.

"I believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy."― Steve Martin

"Sex without love is a meaningless experience, but as far as meaningless experiences go, it's pretty damn good." – Woody Allen

"Sex is the consolation you have when you can't have love." ― Gabriel Garcia Marquez

* * *

Raphael looked from Mikey, still sitting on the couch, still looking like he was in the middle of a math exam and had no idea how he got there, to Leonardo who looked like a mix between an animal caught in a trap and a severely angry mutant turtle. Raphael shook his head in denial and put up his hands defensively.

_Hey, don't look at me like that!_

No way, he was not taking the blame for this! He had nothing to do with any of this! The woman named Charlotte moved next to him and started rubbing his bicep with two fingers. She made an appreciating noise. He yelped and scrambled around her. He cracked his shin against the edge of the coffee table and blurted out a curse. The beer bottles rattled and one of them fell and rolled to the floor. Stumbling, and spinning around the coffee table, nearly falling on top of it, he moved past Mikey and the woman named Annie and around Bonnie who was steadily advancing on his older brother like a big cat zeroing in on a baby antelope. Charlotte put her hands on her hips and followed him.

"Uh, uh! Ow, dammit," he hollered as he banged his shoulder against the corner of a shelf on the wall. Apparently his ninja skills were not as sharp when he was drunk and being surrounded by beautiful women and one furious older brother as when he was not. The items on the shelf clattered dangerously. He scrambled to keep them from tumbling off the shelf.

"I had nothin' to do with thish. I shwear, Leo." His eyes were wide and he kept patting the air as he moved from the wall and the shelf towards the hallway. "Uh, I'll take care of it, Leo. I'll fix thish. I-I'll be right back," his words were running into each other and slurred as he ran after Casey; Charlotte not far behind.

The girl named Annie slid on top of Mikey's lap, straddling him. He blinked up at her face, mouth open still.

"Hiya, cutie," she said over the thrumming music and pinched one of his cheeks playfully. "You're the cutest thing I've ever seen, you know that?"

Her voice was squeaky and musical to his ears. She pulled on his strings from his hood and bit her bottom lip. A slow smile that was a mix of awe and excitement spread across his face. A twinkle of mischief sparkled in his eye.

"Uh, th…thanks! Are you…uh…um…for me?"

She nodded as she leaned in closer to his face. She gave him a chaste peck on one of his cheeks.

"That's right, sugar. If you want me." she purred seductively and ground against his lap.

_"Sweet Mother…"_

"I ain't your Mama, sugar."

Michelangelo's face colored and a lustful glint sparked in his twinkling eyes. She began to stroke the side of his face and writhe on his lap in time with the pulsing music flowing around them. She smelled just like peaches for some reason and her fuzzy sweater tickled his hands as he scrunched the material up in his fingers as he stroked her back. He giggled, feeling giddy and electrified with sudden excitement and desire.

"No. No,  _Mikey_ ," Leo said as he began moving towards his younger brother, his voice taking on that commanding note that his brothers knew not to ignore. But before he took two steps, Bonnie was in front of him then and very close, so close he nearly bumped into her. He caught the smell of her perfume and swallowed, it smelled like apples and something earthy. Looking past her at Mikey as Annie continued to move sensually on top of Michelangelo's lap, he huffed and dodged from side to side to get around her, each time Bonnie blocked him with her body, chuckling.

"E-Excuse me," he said finally as he pushed past her, shoving her to one side, more roughly than he'd meant to but he was putting a stop to this, now.

"Oh!" she said and grabbed at his sleeve to keep from falling over. His feet stuttered to a halt before taking more than a step. Her curls bounced around her face as she used his arm to right herself. She placed her hand on the middle of his sweatshirt and slid it up to the side of his neck.

"Easy, Tiger. You're so strong. You gotta be careful so you don't hurt me," she purred at him. "You don't want to hurt me, do you?"

"Uh…s-sorry."

She batted her lashes and then tugged playfully at one of the strings of his hood. "I like this song, wanna dance?"

"Yeah, let's dance!" Annie said from behind them, pulling Michelangelo up to his feet.

"Oh boy!" he said happily, bouncing up onto the balls of his feet. He couldn't believe he was about to dance with an actual, real, flesh and blood, not imaginary or ghostly,  _girl_. This was turning out to be one of the best days ever!

"Pinch me, am I asleep?" he asked. She reached up and pinched his cheek again and they both giggled.

He glared at Michelangelo but his attention was stolen by Bonnie pressing up against the front of him.

"Are-Aren't you with Casey?" Leo asked Bonnie in desperation as her arms snaked around his neck.

With twinkling eyes, she shook her head and laughed and pressed her body up against his some more and moved it in time with the rhythm of the music. He felt all her curves and softness through the sweats and warmth exploded through him.

Was it just him or did it get really hot in here? And where the hell was Raphael already?

* * *

Raphael caught up to Casey and stumbled into his retreating form, making the big man lurch forward from the impact. His arms shot out from either side of his body and his socks slid on the marble before stopping.

"Geez, Raph! What are you doin' in here?" he asked above the pounding music.

"Cashey, what the hell ish thishit? You hired  _hookers_?!" Raph asked, his words fully slurring, pointing back to the living room. Charlotte dodged his finger that almost poked her in the eye. He glanced over his shoulder, realizing what he'd nearly done and what he'd just said. "Oh, shorry," he mumbled, flustered.

Casey raised a finger and said, "I believe Bonnie and her friends prefer the term:  _Escorts_. Now, take it easy, bud. Everything's gonna be okay."

Charlotte smiled a knowing smile at Casey who nodded with raised eyebrows, confirming something. Raph looked from Casey to her then back again. Okay, they just said something to each other and he was sure that it was something regarding him. The room spun a little and he braced one arm against the wall for support. This wasn't funny. Leo was pissed at him for something that had nothing to do with him for once.

Casey grinned and patted his arm. "Relax, man. Nothing to panic about. You're fine," he spoke calmly.

Then he raised his eyes past Raph and looked again at Charlotte. He pulled a wavering Raph closed to him with one arm and said in a low, conspiring voice, "This is just what Leo needs to forget that bitch, Karai. You told me he was still havin' a hard time with it. Nothin' clears the system better than a good fu-"

"No, man. Leo'sh pisshed…" he swayed and pointed at himself, "…at  _me_. You gotta fix thish."

"Don't worry. I'll tell Leo it was all me in the morning, okay? Besides, it is my present to him."

Raph glanced back at Charlotte and narrowed his eyes, he snorted in disbelief. Then he turned back to his friend who was doing his share of keeping Raph upright.

"Shome preshent. Thish ishn't gonna end well, you dick. Afta' they getta load of ush…" he picked the material of his sweatshirt between his fingers and thumb and snapped it. "…under here…they're gonna freak," he crossed his hands at the wrist then spread both hands out in a quick motion. He swayed, head spinning and Casey kept him still. He'd tried to whisper but ended up speaking louder than usual. Charlotte heard every word and crossed her arms. She smirked and raised her chin, giving Raphael a measuring look.

"C'mon! Would I do that to my best buds? Listen, Bonnie and her friends are a special…what's the word?  _Caliber_ ," he chuckled; looked up and winked at Charlotte. "They know what they're doin'. Trust me, bro. You're gonna do great."

Raph blinked slowly as his head tilted a bit to one side wearing a confused frown as he processed the words Casey had just said. It was hard to think when he felt so dizzy. The room tipped and he really wanted to sit down. Yes, he definitely drank too much tonight, he thought in the back of his mind.

"B-But…what about…Mikey…" he attempted feebly.

"He's eighteen," He shrugged. "You're all adults." He placed one hand on his shoulder and pointed past the woman to the other room where Raph could see Michelangelo now dancing with Annie. Casey barked out a laugh at the sight. "Look, that's my boy! See, Mikey's having a great time!"

"Leo'sh gonna kill meh," Raph said miserably.

"Then spend your last hours well, my friend," Casey said with a wry smile and turned him around to face Charlotte. His head spun as he did and he felt dizzy and a little sick with the motion. She inclined her head and linked her arm in his, steadying him.

"Take good care of the big guy, Char. Be gentle, it's his first time."

She smiled at Casey then said to a swaying Raphael as he leaned into her, "C'mon sweetheart. Don't be scared."

He straightened; bristled. "I ain't shcared a' nothin'," he said. "I…ain't…" but the rest of his words were swallowed as she led him into one of the bedrooms off the hallway and closed the door behind them.

* * *

Dipping and dodging until he was free from Bonnie's arms, Leonardo tried to wedge himself between Annie and Michelangelo. But they were pressed so tightly together it was like they were one creature. Michelangelo's arms hugged her close to his body. His face was nuzzled into one side of her neck. His hands planted on each side of her hips, travelling steadily towards her bottom. Annie's face was a mask of pleasure.

"I think it's time to go," Leo said evenly, placing a hand on his little brother's shoulder and tugged it.

"What?! No way," Mikey whined. "The party just started!"

"Enough," Leo snapped. And Mikey shrugged his hand away roughly, knocking it back. Michelangelo hadn't had the opportunity to drink much around Leonardo, but he started to think that perhaps his little brother was a mean drunk.

"Back off, Leo! You aren't my dad, man!"

Leo's eyes widened and he did step back at the anger in his younger brother's voice. "Mikey, this is..."

"What?  _Wrong?_  You're one to talk," he snapped.

Wounded, Leonardo closed his mouth and pressed it tightly, dropping his eyes to the floor in shame. He sucked as a role model, in other words. Michelangelo was right, though it still fell to him to guide his younger sibling in what was right and wrong. He reached out to grab his brother's shoulder again.

Annie shushed Michelangelo and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. His tongue poked out in mock strangulation. She whispered something into his ear that Leo didn't catch. Michelangelo's eyes narrowed then went round as saucers, cheeks flushed a deep pink. Annie, biting her bottom lip, released him and stepped back. She nodded, silently asking him if he understood and agreed.

"Uh, y-yeah." He turned to look at Leonardo with wide eyes and said quickly, "I have to use the washroom."

He dropped down to the floor escaping from out of Leonardo's grasping attempt to restrain him again by the shoulder and then shot up and vaulted over the couch and ran into the hallway. Annie raced to follow him, tittering with laughter.

"Hey! Mikey, get back here,  _now_!"

Things were getting out of hand. He felt Bonnie's arms wrap around his middle, her hands turned and her fingers kneaded against the front of his chest.

"C'mon, Birthday Boy. You're too uptight. You need to relax," she said in his ear.

He stiffened at the remark. It reminded him a little too much of how Karai would tease him. Her face rose up in his mind; her voice. His heart constricted even as it raced. The music was suddenly too loud, the ceiling too low, her touch too intimate, her perfume too choking.

 _"Get off me!"_  He growled at her, shucking free of her arms roughly. His elbows knocked her away.

She made a small cry and stumbled back, falling to the rug in a gasp; a look of hurt and a passing flash of fear on her face; her breath coming in little huffs as she blinked at him with bright eyes. Leo, trying to slow his breathing, looked at her then away, feeling ashamed for the sudden angry outburst and roughness of his actions. He opened his mouth but closed it with a snap.

Enough of this. They were leaving,  _now_. Where was Raph?

He marched into the hallway, looking for either of his brothers and Casey. His face swept from side to side. No sign of Michelangelo or Raphael. This wasn't good. Where the hell were they and more importantly what the hell were they up to with those…women. Something told him all too well what they were doing and he felt a pool of uneasiness in his stomach. Splinter was going to kill him.

He stomped into the kitchen. Casey sat at the table, a beer in front of him, arms crossed, he wore a look of distant contemplation. His face snapped up as Leonardo approached him. At first he only glared at the man, then closed his eyes and sighed. Though completely misguided, Leo thought he understood Casey's motives.

"Casey-" he started but was interrupted.

"Listen, Leo. I know this isn't easy for you. I know kickin' back doesn't necessarily come natural for ya, but trust me. You need this."

Leonardo shook his head and opened his mouth to say this was the last thing he needed, but Casey went on.

"Yeah, yeah. I don't wanna hear it. You do. Leo." He tapped his fingers on top of the table, pressed his mouth together and stared up at where Leo stood.

"Look, bro, Raph told me what happened…with…you know, you an' Karai screw…you know…er…you know….f-f…" He sighed in frustration. He was starting to sound like Porky Pig. "Bein'  _intimate_ ," he finished firmly and took a drink of beer, relieved. For some reason, Casey had a hard time swearing when he was around Leo. Kind of like he was a surrogate father in a way to the bulky man.

A look of panic flashed across Leonardo's face, followed quickly by anger to be finally replaced by resignation. Of course Raphael would have talked to Casey, who else did he have to confide in? He sighed in defeat. Everyone in the world, including the whole freaking Foot Clan, seemed destined to know about his personal life. Why not one more? If alcohol didn't send him into a frantic reaction he felt that a drink right then would have been more than warranted.

"I know it ain't exactly the same, but I know what you're goin' through, buddy." He took a swig from his beer, set it down and looked at it with disgust. "Sometimes, when you're so caught up in the past…the past you had with someone…" he clarified. "The best thing to do is to have another experience…so ya ain't so focused on what happened…before." He picked up the bottle and drained it.

Okay, so maybe he hadn't exactly guessed right with Casey's motivations for hiring these women. Leo had assumed it was just another way that Mr. Jones here spent his leisure time and wanted to share the love, so to speak. He felt bad for presuming such an insulting thing of his friend. Casey was trying to help him forget Karai. And also, in the process, he was trying to move past April as well. So, Donatello wasn't the only one hurting over her. Ah, he should have known. For all his bravado, Casey didn't come out of the relationship unscathed; just pretended to be that way around them. Leonardo had no idea Casey was having a hard time with the break up. He seemed normal enough when he visited the lair to see Raph after the previous summer.

He rubbed his forehead and leaned two hands on the back of one of the kitchen chairs; staring at the table. He sighed through his nose; aggravated and feeling overwhelmed.  _Women_.  _Were_   _they all this much trouble?_ At least April wouldn't have them tortured and killed. He could be grateful for that small detail.

"I dunno, Casey…I really don't think this will…"

He was interrupted as Casey slammed the beer bottle down on the table.

"Leo, she ain't the only one in the world..."

Leo started. The change in tone in Casey's voice and his angry action snatched Leo's attention. Leo watched him as Casey stood up from the chair. He picked up the bottle with one hand, considered it miserably and then turned his gaze to Leonardo. His dark eyes were full of a seriousness rare for the big man.

"…no matter how much your heart tells you different."

He reached over and patted a stunned Leonardo on the arm; shook his shoulder a little.

"We can get past it…"

Bonnie came up beside Leo and looked at him with a nervous smile. Slowly she slid her warm hand over Leonardo's. He glanced at her then dropped his eyes then brought them up to Casey's face. Casey stared at the air in front of him, looking lost and regretful.

"…just need a little help, is all."

With that he dropped his hand from Leo and turned away from them and closed the door to the balcony. Bonnie blinked at him as Leo turned his face to look at her.

"You still feeling mad at me?" she asked him sweetly in a little voice.

Leonardo shook his head. His eyes darted to the shadowy figure of his friend sitting on the balcony alone in the dark.

"No," he said quietly.

"C'mon, then, Birthday Boy," she said and pulled at his arm, moving him away from the table towards another room.

As they moved into a large bedroom, she softly began to sing Happy Birthday to him. It would have been nice, in another world, in another existence; one where he wasn't so messed up and preferably in human form. He stopped when she moved around him and started to pull the over-sized sweatshirt over her head, revealing a lacy black bra that barely contained two full breasts.

Leonardo swallowed as his body responded to the sight. He ached suddenly with an overwhelming need. He felt his face flush. He took a step back; shook his head; turned away from the lovely, tempting sight. He had to get out of there before he did something he'd regret.

"I can't," he said, his voice strained.

"Because of what I am?" she asked and that made him stop in his tracks.

He looked over his shoulder at her with wide eyes. She sat on the edge of the large bed, swinging her legs, but the expression she held was only filled with hurt and wounded pride.

"I…no, it isn't that," he said softly to her.

She tilted her head as she considered him. "I know that's not a costume."

His throat worked as it swallowed back the sudden panic that rose up. His already pounding heart picked up the pace.

"That's why your friend hired us. We handle special cases." She moved her fingers, making quotation marks in the air. "So, if you're worried about me freaking out about your…your…well, your deformity, I won't. Okay?"

Leonardo could only stand there, blinking and feeling completely at a loss. In the back of his mind, he realized that he could...he could if he wanted... 

 _I do._  

He felt a shiver run through him. To be held again. To feel that...again. It was too much. "N…no. I'm sure…you know what you're doing." His voice seemed to be coming from far away. He felt like he was falling backwards through a tunnel even as he stood there sweating beneath his clothes.

She crossed her arms and huffed. "So, what? You don't want to do it with a prostitute then? Too good for someone like me?"

The world seemed to tilt wrong suddenly. She was angry but the hurt was clear in her voice and Leonardo started to feel more and more like he was trapped in a twisted dream. Here, this human woman was accusing him of feeling repulsed at  _her_ , when he's standing there, half man half mutant turtle. The universe was laughing at him, he was sure of it. This was one of the strangest birthdays he'd ever had. Head spinning he made up his mind then. He decided truth would serve him best.

"I'm sorry. There's…someone else."

He flushed as he said the words. The old mix of anger and shame for still having feelings for Karai rose up inside him and for a brief moment he nearly changed his mind and indulged in what this pretty woman was offering him. He was being pulled in two. But he knew there was only one woman he really wanted. Even if he only had the memories of being with her to hold on to for the rest of his life. That was his choice. And he made it.

Her mouth opened and her eyes grew round and she blinked furiously as she processed that bit of information. A crooked smile spread across her face. She stood up and held her sweatshirt in one hand. Her bottom lip pushed up against her top lip as she approached him. For a second, he nearly ran from the room, not trusting her motives or his yearning body to be near her. But she only patted him on the shoulder.

"She's lucky," Bonnie said and moved around him to leave.

Leo couldn't help the ironic breath as it huffed from his chest. He spoke to the empty room, "Heh, yeah."

* * *

He poked his head out of the door after Bonnie stepped out. He glanced down the hallway and didn't see any sign of his brothers. A sinking feeling pulled at him.

Bonnie was standing outside another door; cracked it open a bit and peeked inside. Frowning he stepped behind her. Over her shoulder, he saw the brunette that followed Raph when he went to speak to Casey. She was sitting in a reading chair next to a wide bed with her legs crossed, filing her nails. Raphael was sprawled across the large bed on top of a deep blue comforter, on his back; snoring deeply; fully clothed to Leonardo's deep relief. His shoes were sitting on the floor below where his sock-covered feet hung over the edge.

She looked up at Bonnie and stood, grabbing a small purse and slinging it over her shoulder. "I gave him a foot rub to help him relax and the next thing I know . . . he passed out," she whispered with a shrug and a wicked grin. "I did try to wake him, but he's out. Oh well, right?"

Bonnie giggled. The two of them moved down a side hallway that connected to the main one that led to the kitchen. Leonardo followed like a ghost just behind them. He wondered at the size of this apartment. They approached another door and Leonardo heard a faint sound coming through the door. Bonnie and Charlotte exchanged glances then, snickering, cracked the door open. The all-too telling noise of someone in the midst of an intimate act flooded over them.

_"Huff . . . Huh. . . Unh . . . Huff . . . Huh . . ."_

_Oh, no! Michelangelo!_

Leonardo fell back against the wall. He didn't want to look. He didn't need to see this. In fact, he felt his stomach turn with the thought of his little  _brother_. . . and that… _woman_ … Oh, Splinter was really going to kill him now. How could he have allowed this to happen? Before he could do anything; as he was still processing the fact of the situation before him and how the hell he was going to handle this; things took a more disturbing twist.

Bonnie and Charlotte slipped in through the door and shut it in his face.

He stood; mouth open; face burning with horror and embarrassment and feeling every emotion that was possible to feel rushing through him; until finally realizing with a leaden stomach and a spinning head that Mikey was right. He had no right to tell any of his brothers they couldn't be intimate with a woman. Not after he'd done the same thing with one.

 _And not just anyone,_  his wretched mind reminded him cruelly.  _Enemy of your family, daughter to the man who wishes death for your own father and brothers and yet, you still_. . . _because you believed the lie._

_And still do._

Face burning, eyes closed, he turned away. He moved as in a dream, one foot in front of the other down the hallway. He wanted nothing more than to just leave, to run away from these women and his memories and burning physical need. But knew he couldn't just run out on his brothers, he needed to see them home safe come the morning. He headed for the balcony where Casey sat alone. Casey looked up at him as he came out onto the balcony. He smiled and shook his head.

"Couldn't do it, huh?"

Leo moved and sat down heavily on a metal chair next to him.

"I don't blame you. I couldn't either. Damn her," he spat, meaning April.

Leonardo cocked an eyebrow at him with this information. So much for his advice about moving on with new experiences. He felt like socking him in the jaw but let it go. His friend was sporting a wounded look that reflected his inner feelings too well. Casey glanced over his shoulder.

"What about…uh, Raph and Mikey?" He licked his top lip and couldn't stop the chuckle. "Are they…?"

"No," Leo snapped, then more gently, "Raph passed out."

"Oh ho. Poor guy." He shook his head and drained the rest of his beer. "I shoulda' had him slow down at the game, but he was havin' too much fun. Hey, what about Mikey?"

Leo stared straight ahead saying nothing as the minutes stretched out. Slowly, Casey's eyebrows raised higher and higher until he resembled a cartoon character. Leo glanced at him and his fury melted away at the comical expression. He couldn't help but chuckle himself.

"Well, as long as he's using protection."

Leo frowned, confused.

"You know…protection. Ah, I'm sure the girls are prepared. They are professionals." He studied Leonardo in the darkness, thinking. "You know what I'm talking about, right, Leo? Protection?"

Leo looked at him blankly. What the hell was he talking about? Protection? Did he mean...swords? Weapons? Why would you need to arm yourself when you were in the midst of doing . . .  _that_?

Casey shook his head with his mouth open. "Man, you're lucky you didn't catch anything from Karai. I mean," he said quickly as Leonardo flinched at the sound of her name, "not that she'd have anything…b-but…" he trailed off at Leonardo's continued expression of confusion, bordering on anger. He rubbed the back of his head.

"No, I guess Splinter wouldn't have taught you about that. There's things to keep you from catching stuff…like shields for your uh, body…so you don't catch any diseases or anything like that. Also so you don't knock anyone up."

Leonardo paled. He had no idea. That is, he knew where children came from; that they didn't just drop out of the sky. He had a rudimentary idea, but he never thought the times when he and Karai had been swept up in their passion…he'd never once considered disease or . . . or . . . he swallowed dryly, the notion of getting Karai . . . with  _child_.

Was it even possible? He dropped his head into his hands as a whole new realm of terrifying possibilities flew through his mind.

"Hey, it's okay. Nothing happened. You guys probably can't get girls pregnant anyway."

The words did little to ease his distress. In fact, the idea that they most likely could never father children was a whole other notion that held only pain for him. This night continued to get better and better. He sighed, feeling miserable. He heard a buzzing sound and Casey grabbed a cell from his pocket. He frowned at the screen, typed something with his thumbs then looked at Leonardo.

"I gotta go."

He dug in his pocket and produced a set of keys. He tossed them to Leo who caught them without looking with one hand.

"Lock up for me when you head out, okay?"

"Casey, what are you doing to earn this much money?"

The big man hesitated just in front of the door. He looked sideways at Leo.

"Just some guys, is all." He sighed at Leonardo continued to stare at him. "Okay, but don't say nothin' to Raph or anyone, okay. Look," he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and thumb, "I started with this… group, okay? They, sort of, go after the Foot."

Leo started. "What? Casey, are you telling me you joined an opposing clan to the Foot?! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" He was standing with clenched fists without realizing it and Casey had his hands out.

"Chill, Leo. I know what I'm doin'. I'm not  _in_ , in with them. I just do some side work where they need the extra muscle."

Leo looked furious. Even in the dark, Casey could see his eyes flash.

"I'm tellin' ya. It's fine. I get to bust some heads, just like always, except these happen to be Foot…uh, heads, and I'm making some serious money doin' it."

Leonardo opened his mouth but Casey interrupted him.

"Look, the last time I took out some thugs, I ended up in jail for two months for civil vigilantism.  _Two_   _months_ , Leo. Just for tryin' ta do something good." He shook his head in disgust. "It ain't worth it to me no more. At least this way I'm still doin' something good for the innocent people of the city and this clan keeps me safe from the cops. Win, win."

"Think, Casey," Leonardo urged. "They just want the Foot out of the way so they can move in."

Casey shrugged away Leonardo's distress. "I only go after Foot. That's what they pay me for. I ain't involved with nothin' else, I swear."

"For now."

"I swear to you, Leo. I ain't getting into nothin' illegal like that. Just protectin' the city and keeping myself protected from the cops while I do it."

"I don't like it." Leo sighed. "But I can't stop you."

"No, Leo. You can't. We're all gettin' older, bro. We got our own paths to walk. Our own mistakes to make. You gotta realize that."

Leonardo looked away into the night sky feeling old, feeling defeated, feeling uneasy and lost.

"Hey, for what it's worth, happy birthday." Casey patted him roughly on his shoulder and then left.

"Be careful," Leo said but wasn't sure Casey heard him.

* * *

The long hours of the night unwound around Leo. The October air had become uncomfortably chilly for him and he didn't have his coat, so he got up to go inside. He was still sensitive to the cold, more than he liked to admit. Almost freezing to death in a walk-in freezer can do that to a person.

But before he left the balcony the sound of a jet caught his attention. He looked up at a passing plane and its flashing tail lights, coming in low from the west. He stared at it for a while, lost in his thoughts. They drifted for a moment and he wondered vaguely where the plane had come from. Wondered what it was like to fly through the clouds above all the grit and grim and problems of the cities below.

He sighed and turned away from the sight of the blinking lights and entered the apartment again. He went to check on his brothers. Raph was still out, rolled to his side, part of the blanket dragged over himself. He crept down the silent hallway. With a sigh of relief he noticed Michelangelo's room was quiet. He put a hand on the door frame and considered going inside to check on him but was afraid of what he might see.

Casey's words came back to him about them all getting older and he needed to come to grips with it. But he couldn't help but feel responsible and dread gnawed at him. Splinter was not going to be happy when he found out about this. The notion of lying to his Sensei about the night may be the only way to avoid an unnecessary blow up. But the last time he'd lied to Splinter had been when he was pursuing Karai.

He rested his forehead against the wooden door frame, feeling weariness, feeling it sinking into his bones. The thought of lying to his Sensei again left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. He'd figure it out later, he decided and moved to walk away, but as Leonardo turned away, he heard a giggle and the sound of muffled voices. He rolled his eyes and moved quickly out of the hallway as the laughter turned to a sound he did not want to hear again.

Leo sat, attempting to meditate in the living room when Raph stumbled into the room. He squinted at Leo; clambered to the leather couch and buried his face in the cushions.

"I ain't never drinkin' again," he said, his voice obscured by the thick padding of the sofa. He raised his head and looked at Leonardo with blood-shot eyes. "Sorry 'bout last night. I had no idea what that bonehead was up to. I swear, Leo. I had nothin' to do with it."

Leonardo raised a hand and shook his head. Before he could speak, Bonnie, Charlotte and Annie crossed into the room, adjusting their skirts and shirts and hair. Charlotte reached down and rubbed Raphael's head as she walked past. He ducked down and peered at Leonardo over his shoulder. Bonnie gave Leonardo a sad smile and Annie blew him a kiss. They left without a word. The two brothers were silent for a bit.

"Dammit. I can't believe I missed out," Raph finally blurted.

Leo's head snapped in his direction. "You didn't miss out, Raph."

"Oh, right. Says the one who's got more experience than I'll ever have," he said it gruffly but Leonardo heard the sadness beneath the roughness.

"Really, Raph. It's better if you can…be with someone you care about. One day…" he trailed off, remembering Splinter's hollow words to him after he'd apologized and revealed that Karai had in fact betrayed him just as his Sensei had warned him. That she had used him and manipulated him in the worst, most humiliating way possible and he'd completely fell for it all. Splinter held him as he cried like an overgrown baby and swore that one day he'd find someone who'd love him in return.

_One day._

It sounded to him as empty and untrue a promise as it did then. He didn't want to repeat the falsehood to his brother and fill him with empty hope. Love was never going to come to any of them. And when it did show up, when he thought he'd finally found it;  _true love_ ; it was all a  _lie_.

He dropped his head low. What was the use? They'd be lucky if they ever even got to be with another prostitute, in fact. He sighed, feeling regretful and angry and shook his head then stood abruptly. Maybe Casey was right. He should have acted on his lustful feelings last night. Maybe he would have found some comfort there, even if that, too had been nothing but another lie. Were they all destined to only hurt like this? Never finding respite from the lonely ache inside? Speaking of which, he glanced around.

"Do you think Donatello is at home?"

Raph peered at him and shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I saw him get in the van with April after she dropped us here. But I highly doubt April took him home with her."

Leonardo pressed his mouth together. Exactly his point.  _Love_. He huffed.

Michelangelo suddenly entered the room, humming to himself, wearing his sweats and tugging at the hem of his sweatshirt. He stopped and looked from Raph to Leo. "That. Was. The BEST night of my life," he announced and beamed the widest smile Leonardo had ever seen.

"Shut the hell up," Raph grouched from the couch, his face buried back into the cushions.

* * *

The petite blonde woman wearing wide sunglasses and a demure black dress and matching stilettos stepped up to the luggage carousel inside the airport along with several other passengers; most of whom were Japanese. She was accompanied and flanked on either side by two well-built men, taller than her by a head. One was dark haired cropped short and the other a shaggy, bright blonde much like her own hair. She pointed and the blonde haired man grabbed two bags for her and together they moved through the crowds to the exit gate. She paused at a vendor selling flowers.

Carefully, she chose a small bouquet with a single large red rose in the center. She opened her leather clutch and paid for the flowers as the men stood by, still and quiet, protective and alert.

A black sedan pulled up and the men opened the door for her. Karai peered over the rim of her sunglasses at the men standing across from and next to her. There was one stop she had to make but needed them out of her hair.

"I want you to go ahead and make sure my apartment and the building is secure."

"We were told to stay with you at all times," the dark haired man said in a flat voice.

She nodded. "Yes, but I understand you are my men, are you not?" She looked from one to the other. "Follow my orders and do not question me again. Is that understood?" she asked in a clipped but commanding voice. Her reputation for being heartless and the success of her faction of the Foot had brought some benefits. One of which was obedience.

"Hai, Mistress."

"We'll contact you as soon as the building is swept and cleared."

She smiled and nodded at them. Then turned and hailed a taxi as they climbed in the vehicle. After she gave the address, the cabbie frowned. He squinted at her through the rear-view mirror.

He asked in a thick New York City accent, "Ain't nothing there but a few factories and some burnt buildings. You sure that's where you wanna go?"

"Absolutely sure."

He shrugged and pulled into traffic. In the back seat, Karai carefully slid the red rose free from the other blooms, setting the bouquet to one side of her. She smiled as she brought it up to her nose and lips and breathed in the soft scent. Her heart hammering in her chest as her mind told her to be calm. Just knowing she was in the same city as Leonardo made her dizzy with excitement and anticipation. She couldn't wait to see him again.

_Soon, my love._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! For the love of my sanity! Tell me what you think! XD


	6. Old Wounds Bleed Anew

_"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will."_  - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

* * *

 

* * *

The mountains rose up blue and distant, silent sentinels as the car wove through the towering oaks lining the road. Doctor Tsuneo Yuichi shifted in his seat as his eyes scanned the paper he held in one hand. He grunted, satisfied, then replaced the file in the brown leather case near his feet. He glanced across at his patient.

Saki sat staring blankly out the window of the vehicle. A Foot soldier elite sat as still and silent next to him as the shadowy mountains and forests beyond. Sometimes Doctor Tsuneo would glance at the man's chest to make sure he was actually breathing. Saki felt the doctor's eyes on him; but he didn't feel like talking so he ignored the man for now. He sighed and the action sent a wave of tight pain up through and across his ribs and chest. He grimaced.

Wearing a simple white button-up shirt and loose pants, he could have been any middle aged man taking a scenic drive past the outskirts of Chichibu-Tama-Kai National Park. The towering Mt. Daibosatsurei could just be seen out the side window. The snow cap peak hidden in the clouds above. Evening was approaching and the sky was awash in pastels of every shade and tone. If Saki noticed it, Doctor Tsuneo couldn't tell. He cleared his throat. Oroku Saki turned and cast dark eyes his way.

"Annabelle has already received instructions as well as all the medication you will require for the rest of your recovery."

They passed a sign welcoming them to Kofu City. Approximately sixty miles west of Tokyo, the rustic and rural setting suit the Foot Clan leader's needs perfectly. He would be able to recuperate and rest in a peaceful setting while still being close enough for all information to come and go as needed.

They were heading to a small home nestled between the national park and the tourist city. Annabelle Huber was a widow who owned the home and offered it as a safe house years ago when Oroku Saki had helped her win the right to her own property from being absorbed as part of the national forest redistricting and redrawing of boundaries. They had wanted to purchase the home and surrounding property but when she refused all the offers the officials even went so far as threatening to damage her property and hinted that her life was in danger if she persisted in her stubborn ways. Because she was not a native to the country the officials thought they had the right to use any means as necessary to remove her from her rightful property, at least, it was how she felt about the matter.

She had heard of the Foot Clan through her deceased husband, a doctor and physical therapist who had the good fortune of treating a young Oroku Saki when he was but a young man just forming the clan. He had no money at the time to pay for the services, but her husband Frederic, who was a kindly man, treated him without payment; something the young man never forgot. Annabelle sent word to Saki, imploring him for help. Once the Foot clan became involved, all pressure vanished and in return, Saki merely asked if the Foot could use her home in the rare event of needing a safe place to recover or regroup. She had readily and happily agreed.

The car pulled up the winding, gravel driveway that led up to the front of Annabelle Huber's home. The home was painted white with bright blue trim. A wide porch and arched doorway welcomed them as an older woman with gray hair wrapped up on the top of her head in a bun descended the steps. Doctor Tsuneo swiftly approached Annabelle, gave a brief bow, then kissed her on either cheek; thanking her for offering her home to them.

Behind her was a younger woman, her blond hair twisted in a long braid that hung down the front of her body. She was dressed in cropped, linen pants and a light purple blouse, gathered at her waist and tied; sandals on her feet. She moved down to the side of the sedan; the soles of her sandals crunched against the tiny stones that made up the driveway. Saki looked up at her from his seat as he was struggling to exit the car. She smiled warmly down at him. Up close, he could see she was only a few years older than he was, deep smile lines etched into the corners of her eyes as she smiled. She moved towards him and reached between the soldier and the open door to grab his elbow in her hand to assist him. Oroku Saki stared up at her bright blue eyes as he felt her sure, strong hand grasp him and steady him.

"Who is this?" he asked Doctor Tsuneo as he emerged from the car; all the while never taking his eyes off the woman smiling at him and assisting him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, forgive me. This is Lena, my sister. She has come to stay with me." Annabelle looked at the doctor and frowned. The doctor looked from Annabelle to Saki then back to Annabelle. His mouth open in confusion.

"I should have told you." She brought her hand up to her mouth. "I did not think it would be a problem. She has moved in with me with the recent passing of her husband a few months ago."

"I have some training as a nurse, sir," she said as she noticed his pained stance as Saki stood next to her, one hand braced against the top of the sedan. Her German accent was thick and rich in her voice. "I will not be a bother. When my sister told me she was expecting an old family friend to stay with us for a while, I was thrilled. Now who I see it is, all the more thrilling for me, you see?"

Saki considered her for a moment, his eyes taking in her face and body. Doctor Tsuneo opened his mouth but Saki raised a hand to silence him. He was not up for more travel. This would do. The most important thing was that Karai had arrived safely in New York and he was out of Tokyo and away from the inner city teeming with rival clan members. He gave a deep, slow nod to Lena and she led him inside the building, taking slow measured steps up the porch stairs with him. The soldier followed behind like a black ghost.

"We will take good care of him, Doctor," Annabelle reassured him and took the bag containing all of Saki's information regarding his care and doses of medication.

"Very well, I will be back in a day or so to monitor his healing. Good evening, Annabelle."

He bowed and got back into the car. He glanced out the window at the oaks and flowering bushes. The birds sang around the car as it turned in the loop of the driveway and headed back towards the main road. Annabelle stood watching him depart. She raised a hand in farewell as the sedan drove away. Doctor Tsuneo sighed, satisfied and relieved that Saki would at last be able to heal in peace. The countryside and two older, but yet, still beautiful women to attend to him would be just what he needed.

* * *

It was gone. Everything. Even those annoying cooing doves were gone. The stained glass, the pews, the altar; it was all nothing but a pile of cinders and crumbling black powder. All of it burnt down to a blackened stain upon the ground. Her heels in one hand, Karai's feet moved through the ashen remains; kicking aside pieces of charred lumps that may or may not have been chunks of the statues of saints that had made up one side of the church. Every step she took brought up a small dust cloud of swirling black. It coated her feet and shins in a light dusting of glistening onyx powder.

In a daze she moved towards where the alcove would have been. The place where they had shared that wondrous, delicate, passionate moment, lost to all the world, unaware of what was to happen in only a few short hours of that moment; of what was to become of their tender love. Unaware that their private moment of love was being recorded. She gritted her teeth with the thought. The base of the angel was there and she was sure then that she was in the right spot.

She crouched; knees weak, and placed her hand against the rough edge of the base. She brought her forehead down upon her arm and took a deep breath. Then another. She would not cry, not over something like this. It could have been anything. A careless homeless person, falling asleep in the structure with a lit cigarette. It could have been a bunch of teenagers bored and destructive. It could have been a chance lightning strike. . .

 _No_ , a voice in her head spoke,  _not vandals, and not a random accident._

She raised her head to survey the damage and her stomach rolled.

_He did this._

Why? Did she really have to ask herself that? She knew then that Donatello had never given him her message. That the message she tried to leave him on the angel was most likely taken wrong.  _Remember me._  Her stomach rolled again and she felt sick. What was that moment like for him? Did he ever once consider it as something other than a taunt?

_Oh god, it would have been horrible. If he thought..._

She moved to cover her mouth, then remembered the rose in her hand as she raised it. Trembling slightly, she laid the red bloom down at the base of the statue. A small eruption of ash rose around it as she did; coating the edges in black; tainting the perfect color.

She stood on weak knees and turned. Determination filled her as she quickly stepped out of the foundation line of the ruins to the waiting cab. With a shaking hand she opened the door and got in. She would find him and explain everything. She would make him see that she never betrayed him as he thought. She clenched her jaw. Then, she'd find his brother in purple and give that shell of his some extra breathing holes.

* * *

Splinter looked from the clock hanging above the stove to the entrance of the lair as Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo entered. After taking a few steps, Raphael started to rip his sweatshirt off. He kicked off his shoes. One of them flew and skidded across the floor as Splinter watched its progress with raised eyebrows. Leonardo helped Michelangelo pull free from his sweatshirt. Michelangelo, humming to himself, gathered up the pile of discarded clothes into a big mound in his arms.

"I'll take care of this," he said cheerfully. "To the laundry room!" he said in a super-hero voice.

Splinter watched him walk across the room towards the laundry room. His whiskers twitched as his nose smelled the air. Leonardo watched nervously and was grateful again to Raphael for insisting their younger brother shower at the apartment before they headed home.

"I trust you had a pleasant evening, Michelangelo," Splinter observed.

Michelangelo looked sideways at him, smiling broadly. "Sure did, Sensei. The game was incredible! And then, I spent the entire night with some girls."

Leonardo shot his face to Master Splinter then to Mikey who continued to hum and walk to the laundry room, to Raphael who was just outside the training room entrance. Raphael froze, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in shock and horror. He shook his head as Leonardo opened his mouth.

"Er…" he began.

Suddenly, Raphael was in the kitchen. "What he means is, Bonnie, er, that's . . . um, Casey's, uh, girl and her friends hung out with us all evening," he said, then, "uh, more tea, Sensei?" as he grabbed the teapot and began to pour the steaming water into his mug.

Splinter turned a perplexed look to their oldest brother. "Leonardo, I heard nothing of this turn of events planned out yesterday."

"I, uh…I didn't…"

"Leo didn't know nothin', Master. It was all a surprise on Casey's part." He shrugged and went on, "You know how Casey is." He tapped the side of his head with one finger. "Not too bright. But, uh, it went okay. No one suspected nothin'. Mikey just…uh…hung out with them all night. But it was fine. Wasn't it, Leo?"

He stared at Leo as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest next to where Master Splinter sat. Leonardo met his gaze. His eyes told him to just play along. Leonardo was too tired to get into this mess. Did Splinter really need to be informed of their private acts? They were never going to see these women again. What difference did it make? It would only end in Michelangelo being punished for taking the opportunity to be happy, even if it was only for a night. He nodded numbly at Raphael but dropped his eyes away from Splinter.

"Yes," Leonardo said simply.

Splinter shook his head and with a disapproving frown looked to the laundry room. "Michelangelo is too trusting for his own good. I would prefer to limit his exposure to strangers as much as possible. Do you understand?"

"Absolutely. Couldn't agree with you more, Master," replied Raphael. "I'll do my best to keep the kid in line for now on."

Leonardo lowered his gaze and said nothing.

"Did you enjoy your birthday, Leonardo?" Splinter asked.

"Yes, Sensei," he answered quietly.

"Well," he said as he stood, "you are home just in time for morning practice. Donatello is in the dojo waiting for a sparring partner. He's been training all morning."

With a nod, Raphael and Leonardo stepped out of the kitchen. Leonardo changed into a pair of flowing black pants and a white t-shirt then met Raphael waiting for him outside the dojo. He moved quickly to Leonardo's side. Under his breath, Raphael said to Leo, "I won't ever bring up last night and Mikey if you don't."

In the center of the dojo, Donatello swung his bo. Over and around his shell, back and forth on either side of his body. It snapped and spun as he twirled it, caught it and brought it out in front in a swift attacking motion. His body gleamed with a thin sheet of sweat. He'd been in there since before dawn. Working out his frustration with katas. He would have liked to have used the punching bag, but his hand still ached from punching the window last night. He stopped as Leonardo and Raphael entered the room.

"Leo, sorry I didn't stay, April was kind of upset and I – "

Leonardo shook his head and gave him a soft smile. "No need to explain, Donnie."

"Did I miss anything?"

Raphael and Leonardo exchanged looks. Raphael frowned, realizing something.  _That ass Casey, he didn't get a girl for Donnie._  He was sure that was done on purpose. Okay, he owed Casey a beating for that. Casey and his brother weren't exactly friends, but that was just being cruel.

"Nah, you didn't miss nothin'," Raph said dismissively.

"Actually, you missed the BEST Night EVER!" Michelangelo hollered from behind them as he leapt into the dojo.

Raphael growled deeply at his little brother and Leonardo's head darted around looking for any sign of their Master. He let out a sigh of relief as he realized Splinter had gone to watch television.

"What?" Donnie asked. He looked from one brother to another, confused. "What did I miss?"

Michelangelo grabbed his nun-chucks off a hook on the wall and spun them. "Casey got us  _girls_ , Donnie! Girls, like, to be with. Can you believe it?! They were – "

Raphael tackled him to the mats before he could say anything else. His breath rushed out of him in a gasp of pain and surprise.

"Shut it, you idiot!" Raphael hissed at him and punched him lightly across the face. "You want Splinter to hear you? You're gonna get us in deep shit with your big mouth!"

Michelangelo's eyes widened, then using his fingers he reached up and made a locking motion over his mouth. He was still grinning, though, as Raphael got off him. He offered Michelangelo a hand up to his feet. Mikey rubbed his jaw and punched Raphael in the shoulder. Raphael glared at him. Donatello looked at them as Leonardo moved close to his side. He told him in a quiet voice what Casey had done and Donatello flushed then paled. He took two steps away from Leonardo.

"A-And you…you…?"

Leonardo shook his head. Donatello looked at Raphael. He spun his sais and shook his head with a look of disgust on his face.

"No,  _happy_?" he snapped. "Not that it's any of your damn business, egghead," he grumbled under his breath.

Then he looked at Michelangelo who continued to grin like a goof. He wagged his eye brows up and down in Donatello's direction. Then did a cartwheel followed by a side aerial flip landing in a split. Donatello rolled his eyes and smacked his forehead. Then he frowned.

"Casey," he spat. "What a scumbag," he muttered then something struck him. "Wait a minute. You said Bonnie invited two friends?"

Leonardo and Raphael paused in their stretches, they exchanged a look then both glanced at Donnie.

"Oh," he said, nodding rapidly, putting the insult together. "Oh, I get it. Nice. Really nice. Not that I would have done anything," he clarified, raising one hand. "I am not someone to stoop to such a . . . a gross level. Unlike some people, apparently."

"Hey! I resemble that remark!"

Mikey shouted then advanced on Donatello. He swung the nun-chucks around and Donatello blocked with his staff. The wood on wood clacked loudly. Donatello shoved his bo horizontally towards Michelangelo who jumped back and swung the nun-chuck at Donatello. The weapons made a cracking sound as they came together. He barked out a laugh.

"You're just jealous. Like Raphie," he taunted. Raphael growled at him and he stuck his tongue out at his grumpy brother. "It was the best night of my life. I regret nothing!" He shouted and leapt away from another jab Donatello made with his bo.

"Boy, Raph," Donatello suddenly said as he turned his attention to Raphael who was positioning himself to spar with Leonardo. "You really befriended a stellar character in Casey." He grunted and stooped, dodging Michelangelo's attack and kicking out with his right foot; knocking Michelangelo to the mat with a grunt followed by a groan.

"My heeeeaaaaad. C'mon, bro. I'm hung-over. Take it easy."

"That's just perfect," he said to Michelangelo with a disgusted look then turned again to Raphael.

"What a gem of a human being," Donatello continued, getting more and more disgusted and angry with each passing second. He was already furious this morning, now this information and slight only fueled the flames of his ire. "It's not enough that he's a bad influence on you. Now he's corrupting our little brother. I hope you're happy in your choice of friends."

"Hey, this isn't my fault," Raphael snapped and marched up to Donatello, frowning. "Why are you blamin' me? I didn't have anythin' to do with this! Just cuz you're pissed at Casey doesn't mean you get to-"

Donatello whipped his bo around at the side of Raphael's head. Raphael blocked it with his sai, choking back what he went to say. Shock flashed in Raphael's eyes. Donatello gritted his teeth and braced his feet and brought the bo around side to side and each time Raphael, with a surprised shout, blocked. But he was tired and hung-over and his balance was off. Besides that, he was not expecting such a heated match with his usually passive younger brother.

The look in Donatello's eye was furious and hurt. Something told Raphael this was about something more than last night. But his sympathetic thoughts towards his brother evaporated with a sharp blow he took from the bo against his right shoulder. He held it and hissed an intake of breath.

It wasn't his fault Casey didn't hire him a hooker. And it wasn't his fault April didn't want him. He had about enough of this bullshit. With a snarl, he brought his sai around to catch Donatello's wrist to disarm him. Donatello, using a series of jabs and feints with his staff managed to knock the weapon free from Raphael's grasping fingers. He blinked in surprise at his throbbing wrist as he realized he was the one disarmed.

Raphael didn't have time to ponder this fact too long as the bo came around aimed at the side of his head. He used his arm to block as he ducked back. But not far enough, he hissed in pain as the bo struck his arm, hard.

"Fuck,  _Donnie_!" he gasped reeling back, cradling his arm. "Geez, man. What crawled up your shell?" He snapped.

"Donnie!" Leo hollered and advanced towards them just as the end of the bo came again at Raphael's face in a jab. A jab that a wide-eyed Raphael managed to dodge just by a quarter of an inch.

"Dammit! Back off!" Raphael barked, stunned and angry and hurt.

It was then that Leonardo noticed the bandages wound around Donatello's wrist and hand. He swiftly moved and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. Donnie spun around, nearly knocking Leonardo upside the head with his staff. Leonardo swerved his head and dodged the swing, then caught Donatello's wrist up in his hand and twisted then dropped his arm in a series of fast motions, forcing Donatello to lose his grip on his weapon and drop it. It bounced and rolled away from them. He yanked his arm free from Leonardo, panting and looking furious and very unlike his usual calm self. Leonardo reached up and took hold of his brother's shoulder.

"Donatello. That's enough," he said firmly. He looked at his brother's wrist and asked gently, "What happened?"

He glared at Leonardo, mouth tight, and then turned his head away. "Nothing." Donatello turned and stomped out from the dojo without another word.

"Man, what's his problem today?" Mikey asked.

Raphael rubbed his arm, frowning. Leonardo's gaze fell on Donnie's bo. He stooped and picked it up. The wood was warm and slick with sweat. He'd been in here training for a while, it seemed. With an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, he wondered how Donatello's evening had gone with April.

* * *

Splinter allowed them to go for their night-time patrol after dinner. Michelangelo and Raphael raced ahead hollering insults at each other and as soon as they were out of ear-shot from the lair, Michelangelo came up with a slew of insults aimed at Raphael's continued virginity. He used his new-found superiority to his older brother in this aspect with unabashed glee. It was a good thing that he was much faster than Raphael. With each deepening insult, Raphael's rage grew until he was chasing after Michelangelo with murderous intent.Michelangelo's cackling laughter echoed down the tunnels to Donatello as he moved in stony silence next to an equally pensive Leonardo. Leonardo was dressed in a black stretch t-shirt and white flowing pants, cinched tightly around his hips; the bottoms gray with the sloshing water.

Donatello gave him a sidelong glance. Leonardo seemed especially quiet at dinner but Donatello had been too distracted with his own anger at Raphael to really consider anything wrong. He knew it was actually Casey he was angry with. He shouldn't have attacked Raphael like that in the dojo earlier, but he just lost control. And Raph was the closest thing to Casey he could pummel so he took his frustration out on him. He decided he'd make it up to his hotheaded brother by fixing up one of the grappling hooks that Raphael had broken on a test run a month ago when he'd developed them. He was too excited and had fired it into a metal pipe instead of above it; smashing the bit to pieces.

Satisfied with the idea, he turned to ask Leonardo if something was bothering him when he noticed that Leonardo was no longer next to him. He paused; his footsteps slowing in the water until he came to a stop and looked over his shoulder. Then, as he looked around, a sinking feeling took hold inside him, as he remembered this particular juncture and where it led.

"Leo," he said to his brother's shell as he stood silently staring down the passageway that led to the church where he'd met with Karai.

This was the first time since Leonardo had burned the church down to the ground that he'd done this. A shadow of anxiety swept over him and Donatello glanced at the retreating shapes of his other brothers then again at Leonardo. He started as he realized Leo wasn't standing there anymore. Torn, he made up his mind to follow his eldest brother. What was this all about all of a sudden, he wondered, feeling uneasy suddenly. He thought of Leo seeing Karai's face on the television yesterday morning and wondered if that spurned this action.

 _Was he thinking of Karai?_  He hadn't done anything with that prostitute Casey had hired. When he asked Leo had shaken his head and Donatello believed him. But why?  _Could he possibly still . . .?_ Donatello did not want to finish that thought. It had been over two years now. And he thought Karai had betrayed him.

 _It's just not in Leo to be intimate with a hired call-girl, is all. He wouldn't, he couldn't, still care about . . . her._  Donatello swallowed dryly as his legs pumped to catch up to Leonardo.

Sure enough, Leonardo's destination was the ruined remains of the church. Donatello hung back, observing his brother from the shadows of the long low factory building as Leonardo stepped up to the scattered edge of the foundation. He moved slowly through the debris. Donatello could see the puffs of ash swirl up around his brother's legs as he disturbed the cinders and burnt wreckage. The white legs of his brother's pants now looked gray from the knees down from all the black dust and ash.

In the gloom, he saw Leo stop suddenly. His movement rigid. Donatello moved closer. Leonardo was standing stiffly and strangely. He quickened his pace only to come to an abrupt halt as Leo stooped and picked something up. Whatever it was, Leonardo stared at it for a long time.

Then, Donatello saw him straighten. He turned his face back and forth then twist as if he were looking around for something or someone. Dread rose up in the back of Donatello's throat as Leonardo turned fully around to face him, a bewildered and lost expression on his face, his gaze falling on what his brother had retrieved. Leonardo stared at it then up at Donatello. He held it out for Donatello to see, his eyes full of confusion and sadness; shaking his head from side to side; mouth open a crack.

In his hands, he held a large red rose.

* * *

Karai was hungry and tired. The sight of the ashen remains of the church had made her feel exhausted and mentally spent as she pondered and reconsidered every possibility for the structure being burned away to the ground. But mostly, it left her feeling frightened. Part of her wanted to go straight to bed, but her stomach protested against the notion and hunger won out. Besides, she couldn't let something so insignificant deter her plans. She had to get herself together and decide how she would find Leonardo.

Also, she was determined not to have to be a prisoner in her own apartment. The kitchen had been stocked before her arrival but she was never one for cooking anyway. Never had the chance to really ever learn. She dressed in a red dress with simple lines highlighting her figure. She slipped into a pair of short red heels. On each earlobe she fastened a small glittering diamond earring.

She crossed out from her bedroom and left, ignoring the soldier reading in the living room. The guard seated in the chair jumped to his feet, the book he'd been reading tossed to one side. He fell in line with the man outside her apartment door. Both were dressed in matching dark suits. With a sigh, she pointedly tried to ignore them as the three of them piled into the elevator and descended to the garage level. She crossed her arms and tapped her fingers against her bare bicep.

"Well, at least I don't have to drive," she mumbled to herself as she stepped into the yawning space of the underground garage. "Hate New York traffic anyway."

She produced a set of keys and tossed them to the blond guard as her heels tapped against the cement. He caught them and unlocked the car. She gave an address to a French restaurant she'd wanted to try and got into the back of the sedan. She opened a compact and adjusted the bangs of her wig. She glared at her tiny reflection and stuck her tongue out at herself. She looked like a bimbo. A rich bimbo, but still. At the very least, they could've made her a red-head, this color did not suit her personality at all.

Her mind wandered as the sedan moved through traffic. She wondered how her father was doing. She opened her phone and scrolled through her email until she found the one from Doctor Tsuneo and opened it. Oroku Saki had been moved to a safe house in the country and was doing well with his recovery. Satisfied, she turned the phone off and looked out the window as the car pulled up to the front of the restaurant. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

* * *

Casey Jones watched the petite blond woman as she exited the car. His eyes roved over her small yet curvy frame with appreciative eyes. He pulled out his cell and sent a quick text then shoved it back into his pocket. He was done for the night. He climbed in his truck and pulled the keys down from the visor. A picture of April slipped free and fell on to his lap. He looked at it. His thumb rubbed the side of her face and he sighed. Then he shoved it in the crevice of the passenger-side seat and started the ignition.

Several men were on the lookout for this particular car and had been stationed throughout the city. They had a few suspected locations of where this particular target may have been stationed. The blond was the target, apparently; some Foot Clan associate or big-wig or something, he didn't know who or what exactly and he didn't care. It wasn't his job to know. He just had to text the message when and if the sedan happened to be spotted. Simple job, big payoff. Casey pulled out into traffic heading for the location where he'd collect his cash for the job.

* * *


	7. Collision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Sweeties, hang on to your booties...

* * *

" _Man cries, his tears dry up and run out. So he becomes a devil, reduced to a monster."_ \- Kohta Hirano

* * *

 

* * *

April stepped into the lair. She glanced around and saw Splinter sitting in front of the television watching the news.

"Hi, Master Splinter," she greeted him as she crossed the room and slowly continued to look around.

He glanced at her over one shoulder and nodded. "Miss O'Neil."

She patted her thighs and sighed. It didn't seem that the guys were home. She knew that they were probably out on patrol.

"My sons are not at home."

She sat on the lumpy love seat perpendicular to the sofa. She leaned her elbows onto her knees and pressed her lips together; crinkling her eye brows.

"Can I talk to you about something?" she asked.

Splinter shifted in his seat. Shooting her a quick glance then dropping it away he gave a curt nod.

"I . . . I'm not sure where to start. But, last summer, I never really got the chance to apologize to you. About the fight with Casey and," she shook her head and dropped it. "And just everything. I've sort of messed things up pretty good here."

"I suggest you make amends."

Her face shot up. "Yes, that's what I would like. But I don't know how to begin. I . . . I don't know if . . . maybe it's too late," she finished miserably.

He shook his head. "No. Never. In matters of the heart, it is never too late to begin anew. You and he are destined for each other, I feel it surely in my very bones, Miss O'Neil."

Her face brightened at his kind words and encouragement.

"Be honest with you intentions. Be honest with your true feelings. Be honest with him."

April nodded rapidly. "Yes. Yes, Master Splinter, I will."

Splinter nodded. "Then go, find him and speak with him now. I'm sure Mr. Jones will be most happy to receive this wonderful news."

_Mr. Jones?_

April's smile dropped. "Uh . . . N-No. M-Master Splinter. I…I didn't mean…I wasn't talking about…"

Splinter shifted in his seat. The frown on his face deepened as she continued to sputter and stutter. He knew exactly who she was talking about and there was no way he was going to allow her to hurt Donatello any more than she had already these past few years.

"I think you know you belong with him. At one point he proposed and you accepted, did you not?"

"W…Well, yes, b-but, b-but…I didn't know that I…uh, um, I had feelings for someone else. I just couldn't h-handle the… my feelings at the time…"

"And suddenly this is all very clear to you? It took another man's broken heart for you to come to this conclusion?"

The simple statement of the facts presented this way hurt her deeply. The bitterness in his words struck her and she suddenly realized that Splinter hadn't misunderstood her. It hurt, but he was not completely wrong. She knew this and hated herself for it. But she couldn't go back now, she was determined to only move forward. She blinked, mouth open, eyes filling with tears. Carefully she bit her bottom lip and dropped her chin, removing her gaze from the piercing amber eyes boring into her.

"I was scared," April said quietly and shut her eyes as if she could close off his penetrating gaze. "I couldn't…I couldn't face my feelings for him." She opened her eyes and stared at him; strength gathered and fortified. "I'm ready now. To be honest. With you. With him. But mostly, with myself."

Splinter shook his head and raised a claw up and waved it away. "Go home, Miss O'Neil. You will not find what you are looking for here. There is nothing for you, here."

She jutted her chin out a little; clenched her hands into fists on top her thighs; to her surprise, she even maintained eye contact. "I don't believe that."

"It is no matter to me what you believe," Splinter said dismissively as he rose from his seat. He turned off the television and moved towards the kitchen. He spoke over his shoulder to her as she stared at his back.

"Your friendship and assistance is and always will be welcome. But no more than that, Miss O'Neil. Nothing else," he said firmly. He waited a moment then continued, his back still turned to her, his voice was low but filled with a commanding resolve that filled her with ice. "I will not allow you to break my son's heart as you so casually did with Mr. Jones." Another pause and as she opened her mouth it was as if he could sense the movement. "Go  _home_ ," he ordered.

Fighting back the tears she stood on wobbly legs and left the lair without saying another word to Splinter. Determined to speak to Donatello as soon as she could, she marched down the tunnel towards the ladder that lead up to the street where she had parked. She didn't come this far just to be turned around at the first obstacle she found. Donatello had gone through so much and still cared for her through it all. She had to be strong. She had to speak with him about this and set things right before it was too late. Doubt nagged at the corners of her heart. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she moved through the tunnel. She hoped it wasn't too late.

Lost in her thoughts she nearly plowed into Leonardo. Her face shot up with her hands.

"Oh my gosh! Leo! I am so sorry, I should've watched where…what are you doing without the guys? Is that a rose?"

Leonardo stared at the rose in his hands with a faraway look in his eyes. He held it with both of them, almost cradling it like it was a precious object to him.

"I just came back to…to put this away."

She frowned and tilted her head, looking closer at him. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head as if he were in a daze. His mouth opened and his voice was small and quiet, "No."

"Leo?"

He blinked and looked up at her. "What?" His dark blue eyes were lost and filled with an emotion she couldn't place.

Her concerned deepened. "I asked if you were okay."

"Oh. I need to get back," he said absentmindedly and she moved to let him pass.

"Bye," she said softly as he moved quickly towards his home.

Where did that flower come from and why was Leo acting so out of it, she wondered. Then decided to leave the matter for now. Her mind was all over the place as it was and she was in no condition to help anyone in this state. She turned and continued home to sort through what she'd do next and what she planned on saying to Donatello. There was so much she needed to say.

* * *

Karai sat at the table in the far corner of the restaurant. She unrolled the napkin and arranged it neatly on her lap. A busboy brought a glass and filled it with water from a pitcher. The ice cubes clattered as they dropped in the glass. She gave him a brief smile then lifted the glass to her lips; taking a small sip. Looking around the floor of the restaurant she twisted one earring and wondered where the waiter could be. A shadow passed over her and she blinked and sat up straight as someone sat down across from her. She frowned then smiled nervously.

"Excuse me, but…"

"Yes?" the woman asked innocently and folded slender hands beneath her chin.

The woman seated across from her was in her mid-twenties or early thirties; blonde wavy hair cut in long layers fell around her shoulders. Grey blue eyes stared steadily back at her. They were cold but glittered in the candlelight from the table.

"Um, I think there's been some mistake."

"Oh?" The woman raised one perfectly arched eyebrow up. "Rest assured, there's been no mistake, my dear," her voice was silk but beneath was an accent, soft but recognizable. German.

Karai felt the hair on the back her neck stand up. There was something familiar in the shape of her face, the chin, the line of her cheek bones. Without being too obvious about it, Karai's eyes darted around for those guards of hers. There was one standing by the front of the restaurant only moments ago. The other was stationed outside the restaurant. The soldier guarding her inside the place was gone. The place where he'd been standing was now empty. Her stomach sank.  _Uh oh._  She gathered up her napkin and tossed it onto the table. She moved to stand when suddenly the woman's hand grabbed Karai by the wrist.

"Nice and slow. You're coming with us, girl."

Karai jumped as a hand clamped down on one of her shoulders. A man in a dark blue uniform loomed over her. She glimpse something in the woman's hands and swallowed as she realized it was a gun.

"Or should I say,  _Karai_ ," the woman purred and narrowed her eyes.

* * *

Casey's truck pulled up alongside the empty factory. He ducked his head and moved through the shadows around the corner to the entrance. A large man with dark skin and a goatee and wearing a tight, black button-up shirt sitting behind a glass wall raised his dark eyes to him. Casey held up his hand in greeting and the man buzzed him through the doorway without a word.

Inside, Casey moved through an open room, past a table on his right where several men were playing poker quietly and several soldiers in dark blue uniforms stretched and sparred lightly with each other on top of mats laid out to his left. Behind them were several doors leading to other rooms some bigger and some smaller than this one. He crossed the floor to small office and poked his head in. A thin man with close cropped hair sat back in a leather chair behind a large rectangular desk. He motioned for Casey to come inside. Another man wearing the dark blue uniform and a mask over his face stepped back then exited the office as Casey entered.

"Mr. Jones. Come in. Nicely done locating our target." He opened a drawer and produced an envelope and tossed it onto the desktop.

"Uh, thanks, Carlisle," Casey said and shrugged. He didn't like to hang around too long with these people. They gave him the creeps and reminded him a little too much of the Foot clan. He just wanted his cash and to get the hell out of there. He picked up the envelope, thumbed through the bills enclosed and nodded, tapped one end of the envelope against the edge of the man's desk as he turned to leave.

"You may want to stick around," Carlisle said. "She'll be here soon," he said with a wicked gleam in his eye.

Casey squinted, tilted his head to one side. "What're you talkin' about?"

"You'll see for yourself if you stay for a bit."

Casey moved out from the office, unease pooling in the middle of his gut. This was all wrong. He never should've gotten involved with this crap. These people were no good. It didn't matter how he tried to rationalize it.

_Just another in a long string of mistakes for dumbass Casey Jones._

He slowly meandered through the men sparring to the table with the men playing poker and walked by. He reached down into the freezer pushed up against the wall near the table and listened in on their conversation as he opened a bottle of beer.

"…take turns with her. Then they're gonna get creative."

"Sweet payback."

Several voices chimed in with laughter and dark chuckling. Casey felt the beer turn to ash in his mouth.  _What the fuck we're they planning?_  He suppressed a shudder. He didn't want to hear any more so he moved to leave. Suddenly, Carlisle appeared next to him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You really should stay. We need as many of the men here as we can get."

Casey felt his stomach roll and his flesh creep. This was not good. He decided to play dumb.

"What's goin' on?"

He shrugged. "Following orders. Taking revenge against an enemy." Carlisle turned and pointed at the set of double doors across the room. "She'll be in there."

They were going to do something very, very bad to that blonde woman he saw go into that restaurant. His stomach sank to his feet. The image of April flashed through his mind; her small frame, how weak she was even when they played at wrestling and she tried all her strength against him; her delicate hands. He shuddered and he felt deeply regretful and suddenly full of icy fear. Foot soldier or not, no one deserved what they were planning. Definitely no woman. Whether the thought was caveman-like or not, he wanted to protect those who were weaker than him, that included most women. Now it made him sick to his stomach to think he played a part in this twisted trap. He was done with these people. What was he doing working with these scumbags in the first place? God, he was so freaking stupid sometimes.

 _Leonardo you were so right. I'm in over my head here. It was just a matter of time before they asked me to do something I knew I couldn't_.

He had to get out of there and fast. He'd need help if he was going to do anything useful for the woman they were in the process of capturing. He knew just the friends he'd pay a call to.

"L-Look. I never signed up for nothin' like this. I know you've got your beef with the Foot. But I'm not gonna be part of something . . . I'm through with this. With you. I'm done. I'm done," he repeated, staring into the man's eyes.

The man frowned, all merriment vanished and was replaced with a dangerous expression. Casey moved to step around him and the man's arm shot out and grabbed his bicep.

"What was that?"

Casey narrowed his eyes, looked at the man's hand then back up into his eyes. "You heard me. Now, you better let me go," he said as his thick bicep bunched against his fingers.

The man released him and crossed his arms. He reminded Casey in a calm voice, "She is a vile enemy to our clan."

Suddenly, the thin man was flanked on either side by several of the soldiers. Silently they stood, braced and tense. Their faces obscured by the masks they wore, the patches of netted black nylon over their eyes only gave a hint that there were in fact, men behind the masks. Their fists tightened at their sides. The air crackled with tension and animosity.

Casey shook his head. "Don't wanna hear about it, pal." Casey took two steps, backing up, keeping an eye on the soldiers and Carlisle. No one moved so he spun and marched quickly towards the exit.

"You swore allegiance to our cause."

"The only time I swear is when I'm pissed or drunk," he called over his shoulder as he stomped away.

Several of the men moved but Carlisle stopped them. Carlisle turned to the soldiers, keeping his eyes locked on Casey's retreating form. "Let's remind him why he needs our protection."

* * *

Donatello leapt to the rooftop where Raphael and Michelangelo wrestled nosily. Michelangelo slipped out of Raphael's grasp only to collapse beneath his older brother and have left his arm pinned. Raphael twisted it at the wrist.

"I give. I  _give_!"

Raphael chuckled darkly.

"Guys, you're so loud I heard you three rooftops over," Donatello said as Raphael sat on Mikey's shell.

"Oof. You're such a moose, Raph," he said in a strained voice. Then, with round eyes, he hollered, " _Ew!_  Aw, man!  _Really!?_  It's not enough you got me down, you have to use biological weapons on me, too?" He started to cough and sputter as Raphael got up. He gave Mikey a light kick to the stomach, laughing hard.

"I'm proud of ya, Mikey. Biological is a big word for a doofus like you."

"Enough guys. Listen, I need to tell you something."

The tone in Donatello's voice caught their attention. Michelangelo raised up on his elbows as Raphael turned and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Where's Leo?" Raphael asked.

"He's coming. He…He had to make a quick stop in the lair." Donatello paused, licked his lips and went on, "He went to the church."

He didn't have to clarify. Michelangelo was on his feet and Raphael marched up to him.

"What? When?"

"Just now. I don't know why."

Raphael shook his head. "It was the news show. Dammit, I knew I shoulda threw my sai at the T.V. before they showed that bitch's face. Now Leo's all fucked up again."

"Is he?" Michelangelo asked.

"I'm not sure. But there's more." They stared at Donatello. "He found something there. I don't know how to explain it. But he found a rose there."

"Huh?"

"There were roses growing there? That's weird," Mikey said.

"No, someone left a red rose there."

"You mean, someone dropped a rose near the place," Raphael offered.

"What did Leo say?" Mikey asked.

Donatello shook his head. "Nothing. He only stared at it and then at me. Then he said for me to go find you guys and that he'd catch up before I could say anything really."

"Wait a minute. Karai's in Japan. We just saw her on the T.V. It's a coincidence," Raphael said but the tone implied he wanted reassurance from Donatello.

"I…I'm not sure."

"Coincidence," Raphael restated as if that was the end of it.

"You can't think…"

Before Michelangelo could finish his thought the sound of a car crashing erupted around them. The three of them ran over to one side of the roof and peered over the edge down the four flights of the building into the alley below.

* * *

Karai stared at the woman seated across from her inside the limousine. She sat quietly, a smirk on her lips and a gun in her hand pointed at Karai.

"Your father should have sent better soldiers to guard you. Maybe he doesn't think as highly of you as we've heard."

Karai's eyes darted to the man next to the blonde woman. He wore a dark uniform and had pulled on his mask as soon as they exited the restaurant and got into the awaiting limo. He cracked his knuckles against his other hand when he noticed Karai watching him.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Karai said, her voice even and calm. Though she figured it was a meager attempt at best.

The woman rolled her eyes.

"Please. You're pathetic if you think we are that stupid."

Karai tilted her head and bit her tongue. Forcing the insult back down her throat before her smart mouth earned her an unnecessary beating. She tried a different tack.

"My father is very wealthy. Though I know you are making a mistake about my identity. I can show you."

She moved to take her purse from where it sat on the seat next to the woman, but the soldier shot forward and smacked Karai. She gasped and sat back. Rage boiled up inside her then and she decided she would just have to kill these fools.

"You have the wrong woman!" she screamed.

"Is that so?" And just as she'd hoped the blonde reached forward to pull her wig from her head.

Her foot shot out, aimed perfectly and the gun flew up and back behind them as Karai then lunged forward and grabbed the woman by her ears. She slammed her forehead into hers and screamed. Twisting she threw the woman across the seat at the soldier who lurched forward at her.

It bought her enough time to take one of her heels and slam it into the glass partition separating her from the driver. Again and again she slammed the heel against the partition. The glass cracked and then broke enough for her to reach through and dig her long nails into the side of the drivers face and neck. The man hollered. The car swerved and she lost her grip on the driver. The side of the limousine scraped against a brick wall as it entered an alley. Garbage cans slammed into the hood and bounced away dented and smashed and refuse exploded over the immaculate jet black of the vehicle.

Karai screamed in frustration and thrashed wildly as the soldier pulled her down off her seat onto the floor by her waist. She twisted around and kicked out and pummeled the sides of his head, but he didn't seem to notice her attack at all. He straddled her. He raised his fist and swung. Karai blocked with her left forearm and brought her right fist up, striking the man just below his sternum. He grunted and leaned back enough for her to follow up with a savage blow between his legs with her left fist. He groaned and rolled to one side.

Struggling over his body, Karai climbed back up her seat and reached for the driver again. Her fingers scratched and pulled at him, but couldn't take hold. She tried to strike him but was at an odd angle and couldn't manage anything but more struggling weak attempts. The driver lurched to one side as he dodged, his foot slammed on the accelerator. He swung the steering wheel around, but he lost control and the limo swerved too sharply. The front end slammed full force into the side of a brick wall. The woman had just grabbed Karai by the back of her neck when the limo crashed. All the occupants were thrown to one side.

Wasting no time, Karai scrambled over their bodies and fumbled with the door handle for a moment. She slid free from the car onto her forearms and stomach; her skin scraped along the gravel and broken glass.

* * *

"Look at that!"

"Holy shit! Car crash. Bad one," Raphael said as he scanned the alley below.

"Should we help?"

Donatello shook his head. "I think we should hold off. It looks like maybe a drunk driver."

"Yeah, not our department," Raphael said.

"What's going on?" Leo asked and all three brothers turned as one.

"Car crash," Donatello said watching Leonardo carefully and pointing to the edge of the roof with his thumb.

"More like limo crash," Michelangelo said.

Leonardo moved to the side and peered down.

* * *

Karai crawled forward and rose up onto her hands and knees. Her head swam and she tasted blood. She had to get some distance between her and that limo. Her hands and arms were coated in blood. Her head pounded and her stomach curdled with every movement she made. Shaking she moved to sit onto her knees. As she did the blow to the side of her head caught her fully and slammed her body, skidding, through the alley into a pile of dented metal garbage cans. The blonde stumbled forward and adjusted her skirt as she advanced on Karai.

"You tore one of my favorite shirts, you little bitch."

Karai raised her spinning head and sneered at her. She opened her mouth to say something sarcastic but didn't get the opportunity. The woman's foot swung out at her face, but Karai managed to block it. She jumped to her feet, swaying and then righting herself. She brought her fists up. In a series of jabs and swings, she attacked, forcing the woman to block and back up back in the direction of the limo.

* * *

"Whoa," Michelangelo breathed. "They're fighting."

"Should we do something, Leo?"

"I dunno," Raph said, eyes glued to the action below. "They seemed pretty evenly matched. That little blonde in the red dress is not a bad fighter." He took a second to admire her fluid movements, then turned to Leonardo and shrugged. "And she's kinda hot." He glanced back down. "Should we get involved?"

Leonardo stepped around the back of Michelangelo and to his side to get a better view. He followed the two women's movements through the alley. Shifting his feet and trailing his hand along the edge of the parapet. Never taking his eyes off the scene below. There was something about the petite one in the red dress. She was certainly schooled in the martial arts. But something nagged at him as he watched her volley a series of kicks and jabs at the taller woman with long hair. Something familiar in the way she moved and fought. The series of punches and kicks... He blinked and the rose he discovered left in the ashes popped into his mind. His heart stumbled.

 _It couldn't be._ Even as he thought it, he knew it was true.

Leonardo froze, all thoughts fleeing, as the ninja in dark blue emerged like a stalking shadow from one side of the vehicle. He advanced quickly behind the woman in red and took her by surprise from behind; wrapping his arms around her torso. Leonardo tensed as the taller woman stepped up and slapped the woman being held. Michelangelo gasped as the taller woman then reached out and grabbed the top of the other woman's head. Raphael tensed, he thought they were about to kill her.

"Oh, fuck," Raphael swore under his breath.

"Let's  _move_!" Leo hissed. Even if it wasn't her, and it couldn't be, there was no way he'd stand there while someone was murdered in cold blood in front of him.

But before they could go more than a step, the taller woman below tightened her grip and ripped the top of the smaller woman's head off. Michelangelo bit back a scream and then realized with a great deal of relief it was only a wig. A blonde wig. The smaller woman was in disguise for some reason.

* * *

"Still want to assure me we have the wrong woman?"

Karai growled at her captors and struggled inside the man's hold. She threw her head back again and again attempting to knock him in the nose with the back of her head. The soldier grunted and took the blows to his chin and jaw instead. He slid his hand up between her breasts and gripped her throat, squeezing it tightly. Karai choked and struggled still. Blood and foam sputtered from between her clenched lips as she fought for air. She bucked and writhed as her chest screamed for oxygen and her head pounded in tandem with her panicked heart. The edges of her world darkened and then, despite all her fiery rage, black overtook it all.

The driver emerged slowly from the vehicle. He turned and took in the three of them. Slowly, he dabbed a piece of cloth against the scrapes and scratches Karai had given him along the side of his face.

The tall woman snapped her fingers at the driver. "Get it started." She turned to the soldier holding Karai's unconscious body. "Get Karai inside. Now. Move it!"

* * *

The woman's voice drifted up to where they stood. Stunning them into immobility. Donatello was the first to break from the frozen shock. He turned with eyes wide as saucers to his eldest brother.

"Leo…It...It's..." Donatello whispered and stepped back.

"D-Did they just call her Karai?" Michelangelo asked, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Leonardo recovered from his shock and with jerking movements made to go over the side of the parapet and continue down to the alley. But Raphael's arm caught him.

"Where're you goin'?"

Leonardo looked at him like he didn't know him. His dark eyes travelled down to where Raphael's hand held his arm, then snapped back to meet his green eyes.

"Leo, that's Karai. The woman who betrayed you and nearly got you killed, remember? Do I have to remind you of all people? Come on." He shook Leonardo's arm a little. "Forget it. Let 'em take her."

 _"What?"_  it was more of a growl than a word.

Michelangelo winced. Raphael pushed him back, hard. Leo took one step back, away from the edge of the roof.

"Leave it. Let 'em take her," he repeated. "The bitch deserves what she gets."

Leonardo's face darkened. Michelangelo felt panic rising up like a frantic tide.

"R…Raph," Michelangelo implored looking between him and Leonardo. Did his brother have a death wish? Well, even if he did, how could he say this about the woman Leonardo once loved? True or not, it was heartless.

"No," Raphael shook his head stubbornly looking from Michelangelo back to Leonardo. "No. I ain't wrong here." He pointed to the side of the roof. His voice rising, "I can't believe that you would even consider going to help her. That evil  _bitch_  deserves what's comin' to her. I swear to god, Leo." His voice cracked, "If I had known she was back . . . She's  _lucky_  they got to her before I did. She  _deserves_  it, whatever they're gonna do to her and more."

There was a rumbling sound filling the air then. It started low and seemed to be growing in strength and timber. Michelangelo cast about then realized with a sick dread that it was coming from Leonardo. He took a step back from his brother who was staring at Raphael with a look that Michelangelo had rarely, if ever, seen on his oldest brother's face. No, check that, he'd never seen this look come from his protective and loving older brother.  _Never_. He saw there a hardness and a cold fury flashing in his brother's eyes that made his throat catch. And for the first time realized how much Leonardo had actually changed from the events of two years ago. The toll his experiences had taken.

He gulped and looked towards Raphael. And suddenly, he feared for Raphael's safety, really truly feared for it, for the first time in his entire life.

Leonardo's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Raphael stared back at him defiantly, in a stance like a furious titan: jaw set, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest. Their respective positions spoke in the rigid silence stretching out; Leo's said prepare for pain, Raph's said bring it on.

"Wait," Donatello spoke, his voice small and uncertain. It rang through the thick fog of building tension like a mission bell.

Leonardo looked sideways at him. Then, at the expression he found he turned, Raphael mirrored him. Donatello appeared to quail and shrink beneath their combined gaze.

"Sh…Sh...She may not. Exactly. D…Deserve it."

* * *

 

**Oh yeah, PLEASE review! Pretty Please!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh MAN! Donnie turn around and run right now! Please REVIEW! Am I killing you with this Super-Deluxe-Evil-Cliffie?
> 
> On a separate note, that song, Stay by Rhianna has been stuck in my head for a few days and it keeps reminding me so much of Leo and Karai. Am I going crazy? Tell me you guys think like this with songs too. Please, insanity loves company. Isn't that the saying?


	8. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A secret's worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept." – Carlos Ruiz Zafon

A gentle tapping at her apartment door had April rolling her eyes. She furiously finished brushing her teeth and spat the foam into the sink; took a gulp of water; swished it and spat again. She hurried into the hallway wiping her chin with the heel of her hand. Her bare feet slapped against the floor in the hallway. The wide legs of her pajama pants patterned with little pink flowers swished around her legs.

"Hang on, hang on," she called all the while wondering who could be knocking this late at night. She twisted the knob of the lock and cracked the door open enough to allow the chain to catch and her to peer through. "Yeah?" she asked.

Through the opening, her eyes fell on a tall, well-built, clean-shaven man standing in the hallway. His hair was sandy-blonde and cropped short. He wore a long black trench coat and a gold necklace around his neck. A friendly smile plastered across his face.

"Hi, there," he started in a warm voice; brown eyes crinkling up. "Sorry about showing up so late, um, is Casey home?"

April rolled her eyes.  _Typical_. She braced one hand against the door frame and bent a knee. "Casey moved out over six months ago. Did he give you this address?"

The man dropped his chin, but his smile never wavered, instead it took on an almost shy quality. "Oh, so, he isn't home, then."

April closed her eyes in frustration and took a breath for patience. She tapped her fingers against the wooden door frame. There wasn't a brain cell between Casey and any of his friends, she swore.

"Let me restate this. Casey doesn't live here anymore. We broke up last year. So," she frowned and an uneasy feeling started to swirl in the pit of her stomach as the man continued with his grin, staring at her through the crack. "If . . . If he owes you money? Or something." She shook her head for emphasis. "He isn't here. Doesn't live here anymore." She moved to close the door.

"Ah," he said softly; stepping back and she paused for just a second watching him through the small opening.

In that second, the door exploded inward. The man who kicked it open stepped through the splintered wood and ruined door. April yelled and jumped back as he strode inside the living room with three long strides. Suddenly, two more men followed. Quickly recovering from her initial shock, April scrambled backwards, turned and ran for her kitchen.

"Shit, shit, shit!" she repeated as her feet slapped against the cold linoleum. She darted to one side and grabbed for the knife rack on her counter; fingers stumbling around several handles until she grasped one and spun around, knocking the rest of the rack to the floor. Her eyes looked down to see she'd grabbed the sharpening steel.  _"Shit!"_  she screamed shrilly and threw it at one of the men as he calmly entered her kitchen.

April backed up until her lower back hit the edge of the counter near her sink. She turned and looked desperately for something else to use. The baseball bat that Casey kept by her refrigerator caught the corner of her eye. One of many of the pieces of sports equipment that Casey would leave laying around in odd places in case of emergencies, he'd always tell her.

She remembered teasing him about needing the bat there to protect her figure from the ice cream in the freezer. At this moment she was more than thrilled to spot it leaning there, forgotten and abandoned when he packed up. She edged towards it as the men stalked around her; filling her space and shrinking her escape route to nothing. In a daring attempt, she lunged towards the bat, wrapped both sweating hands around it and swung it out in front of her.

_"Back off!"_

Chest heaving, knees bent slightly, she waved the weapon in front of her body; the end moved in a tight circle like she was queuing up to bat. Panting between gritted teeth she feinted towards one man creeping closer then moved it at the other, both men paused. April tossed her head to rid the strand of hair blocking one of her eyes. They were wearing what she first thought was Foot Clan uniforms. The back of her mind processed the fact that the symbol on their chests did not match the Foot symbol. Who were these guys? Well, it didn't matter who they were, they weren't getting any closer if she could help it. Adjusting her grip, she swung the bat back and forth again as they inched closer, again they paused.

The man who initially spoke to her through the door chuckled. He raised one hand and the other two stepped back away from her. He inclined his head, considering her.

"Fiery," he said as his eyes roved over her body, ending with her face and mussed hair. "Nice. I see what Casey saw in you."

"Stay away from me," she said and internally cringed at the wavering timber her voice held. Fear made her knees feel watery and weak. How did they know Casey?

In a blur the smiling man advanced. April swung with all her might at his head. Her arms took the abrupt impact as he caught the end of the bat in his left hand. He flexed his fingers open then wrapped them around the end, still smiling at her, still staring with his flat eyes. With a single, rough tug, he ripped it from her grasp. With a wordless cry, April fell back against the wall. She brought her fists up and tried to remember some of Master Splinter's training but her mind was a frantic blank. Even if she stayed calm, there was no way she could take three men. Heart racing, she braced herself, clenching her fists tightly, determined not to go down easy.

"Take her."

* * *

On the rooftop across the city, but not too far from April's apartment, Raphael advanced towards Donatello.

"Donnie, are you nuts? How can you forget what they did to Leo? What Karai did to him?" He pointed a shaking finger in Leonardo's direction. "They fuckin'  _whipped_  him, remember? That's why he wears clothes to hide the scars."

Leonardo blinked in surprise at Raphael's statement. For a second his anger at him was forgotten. That wasn't the reason he started to wear clothing…he didn't like to be cold. And yet…when he would undress to shower; looking at the scars that crisscrossed over his thighs and down his shins brought back unpleasant memories. Memories brimming over with layers of pain that he'd tried to suppress and hide away from.

He turned back to where Michelangelo stood near the edge of the roof clinging to a pair of nun-chucks with nervous hands. He clenched his jaw. There was no time for this. And yet, Raphael was right. What was he doing? She'd betrayed him, humiliated him and he'd almost died...his memories were a confused blur from the point he'd been brought into the Foot's dojo. Only what his brother's had filled in. They told him she had a blade to his throat just before they rescued him. He should want her to pay for what she'd done to him. But despite all of that…he wanted to rush to help her.

The urge was like instinct for him, he needed to get down there and help her. He needed to go to her now! But something cemented his feet to the spot. Something in his brother's expression and tone of voice. He had to hear this. Though he was afraid. So afraid of what Donatello was about to say. And he didn't know why.

Donatello ignored Raphael's outburst. His heart galloped in his chest as he cleared his throat and recaptured Leonardo's attention. The world seemed to narrow down to a single point and at the epicenter stood Leonardo and himself.

"It…It's important that you know this…before you decide to help her…or not," he started and the words clotted in his dry throat and thick tongue.

He promised himself this day would never come. That there was no possible scenario that would force him to reveal the secret he'd kept from Leonardo. A secret that was sure to shatter their friendship. Donnie wondered bleakly if he'd disown him as his brother. Drops of sweat formed on his brow. He could taste the bitter bile in the back of his throat. Fear made his legs feel like wet rubber bands.

There was no going back now. He had to face this and silently, he prayed to whatever or whoever was listening to prayers given up by mutants that Leonardo would be blessed with boundless sympathetic understanding and forgiveness. Something told him he was out of luck. His stomach was full of churning lead butterflies as he opened his mouth again.

"Leo," he went on, each spoken word a painful struggle to push through his lips, "I need you to understand that I . . . I kept th…this from you f…for a very good reason."

Leonardo stood completely still as only he was capable of doing. It was as if his body truly was forged from some unrelenting composite of steel and concrete. His hard eyes bore into Donatello commanding him without words to spit it out, whatever he needed to say, and do it quick. The only thing that moved on him were the bottoms of his pant legs, flapping gently in the nippy breeze blowing around them.

Raphael's frown deepened. His mouth hung open in disbelief and fury. Michelangelo, still standing near the edge of the roof glanced into the alley below. His heart jumped into his throat. They were climbing into the limo. They were going to get away and then Leo would really lose it. He opened his mouth to let everyone know that this should probably wait, but Donnie cut him off. And what he was saying made Michelangelo freeze, inside and out.

"K…Karai asked...asked me t…to... When we rescued you…I mean. She was in the alley where April was waiting for us. Leo," his face crushed into agonized sorrow as he went on. His hands trembled in front of him as he held them out as he explained. "She asked me to promise to . . . to tell you that . . . that she didn't betray you. That she had no part in it. In any of it."

No one moved. Leonardo was a statue carved of emerald stone. If anyone had spoken at this point, Donatello wouldn't have been able to hear it; his heartbeat was a crashing drum in his ears. In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought grimly. He'd resigned himself to spill it all. Heaven help him.

Shaking where he stood, he rushed on, "Sh…She said sh…she still  _loved_  you. Ahh-and always w…would. God, Leo, I'm so… _so_ …sorry. I should have told you. B…But I . . . I was trying to  _protect you. ._  ." his voice trailed off to a whisper. His mind went on,  _Don't hate me, brother. I did it because I love you and didn't want to see you hurt like that ever again._

Leonardo blinked as the words Donatello spoke filled him and echoed into his mind, bouncing around until finally settling and soaking into all the cracks of his mind. His broken, barren heart absorbed every syllable; drinking it in; aching and pounding and racing; feeling as though it were about to burst. Too much. It was too much. His head spun and the roof tilted up from under him and he vaguely wondered if he was about to faint like some weak character from a badly written romance.

" _Bullshit!"_ Raphael shouted. He grabbed Donatello roughly by the strap, shook him and shoved him away. "Bullshit!" he repeated, shaking his head in denial and stalking in an angry circle. He turned to Leonardo. "It's nothing but more lies from her," he said disgustedly. But then he stopped speaking and paled to a light green as his gaze fell on his older brother's countenance. His eyes widened.

Leonardo didn't hear what Raphael was saying. The world and everything in it around him was suddenly blotted out with a thick scarlet haze. He couldn't see his brothers or anything around him. He went blind in a rush of brilliant crimson. A high pitched ringing filled his hearing, blocking out all other sound. The red world was filled with nothing but that high whining tone. He was lost inside it. Vaguely he heard something in the distance from far away. The sound cut low through the whistling noise. A grating, grinding sound repeating itself over and over, growing louder with each passing second. A name being called? Maybe, but he ignored it. Because it didn't matter, it didn't matter at all, nothing mattered. Nothing  _mattered!_

The sound snapped into clarity as the living world crashed back, ripping through Leonardo's crimson curtain of rage. It was a name being called. His name. Reality reasserted itself around him with an almost audible crack. Sensations returned to him in a whiplash strike.

He was on the ground. No, not exactly. Not on the ground. He was on top of someone. Someone who was struggling and bucking beneath his weight. It was his brother. It was Donatello, his mind realized dimly and detached. His hands were wrapped around Donatello's throat, tugged and pulled at by Donatello's clawing fingers. Donatello's eyes were rolling, wild with fear. His pupils were tiny pinpricks of terror; his mouth open, fighting to suck in air. Small, sharp noises were coming from Donatello's throat.

Suddenly, he was aware of Michelangelo and Raphael screaming his name from next to his face. Screaming for him to let go as they pulled at his shoulders and back of his shell. He felt Raphael's thick arm come up under his chin and snake around his own throat and tighten, but his body braced against Raphael's strength and still his hands would not release.

He'd lost control. He was strangling his brother to death and he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop!

 _Let go,_  he thought.  _Let. Go._

Finally receiving and obeying the order from his brain, his fingers painfully released one at a time from his brother's bruised throat. With a mighty heave and a scream, Raphael wrenched him backwards off Donatello and onto his shell. The two of them fell together, skidding against the rough surface of the roof. Raphael sat up quickly onto his knees; furious and frightened. He grabbed Leonardo by the shoulders and slammed him back; once, twice.

His voice cracked as he screamed at him, _"Fuckin' Christ, Leo!"_

Donatello rolled to his side, writhing and kicking as he struggled to pull air through his constricted throat. The noises coming from him were pained and terrible. Michelangelo was next to him frantically asking if he was okay and hollering for him to breathe.

The terrifying realization hit Leonardo that he'd nearly killed his little brother. He'd lost control and Donatello almost paid for it with his life. Guilt and shame rode over him like twin stampeding herds, crushing him into the ground. How could he have lost control like that? But it wasn't just losing control, it was like he had lost his mind. The thought chilled him and shook him. What was wrong with him?

_He betrayed me. My little brother betrayed me, too._

Leonardo pressed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes as he cried out, rolled to his side, and then got to his shaking elbows and knees as his stomach roiled. He retched and vomited. He collapsed to the side and rolled away from the widening pool of his stomach contents. Part of his mind that continued to be detached and calm like the center of a massive emotional hurricane was surprised to find he was shouting in a hoarse, agonized voice.

"Why, Donnie, why!?  _Why?!"_

He took in a ragged breath and his words cut off suddenly and his mouth snapped shut. In a flash, he scrambled up and then leapt to his feet. He dashed to the side of the roof slamming past Raphael's shoulder as he did, knocking him back. His face darted about as his eyes frantically scanned the now empty alleyway below. His racing heart twisted painfully.

The vehicle was gone.

_She never betrayed me._

They had her.

_It was never a lie._

She was gone.

_She loves me._

They were going to hurt her.

_She loves me._

And he had no way to find her.

He slammed his fist against the rough edge. Unshed tears blinded him.

_"No…No!_ _**NO** _ _!"_

He vaulted over the edge and dropped down into the fire escape as Raphael hollered for him to stop from behind. It swayed and creaked and groaned with his weight as he clamored, half-climbing, half-falling, down to the ground as quickly as he could. One of the legs of his pants caught and shredded as he yanked free with a snarl. He dropped the last ten feet to the ground with a grunt; he stood and ran a few feet in one direction; crouched, studying the ground; stood and spun, ran and skidded to a stop. Gravel and broken glass sprayed out from beneath his feet. His eyes frantically searching for anything he could use, anything, any sign at all. He turned one way, then another; turning in a circle.

_Please. Please give me something. Please._

On the roof above, Raphael moved to Donatello's side. He sat leaning forward between legs splayed, knees bent, propped up from behind by a trembling Michelangelo as he coughed and continued to choke. But he was breathing. That was an improvement.

Tears had spilled over the sides of his face, tracing gleaming tracks like stripes vertically over his cheeks. His bright eyes shone with still more unshed. He fingered the edge of his collarbone with tentative fingers. His throat sported a wide dark purple bruise reaching from one side of his jaw to the other. Raphael crouched in front of him and sighed deeply. He fixed his dark green eyes on his brother.

"You just had to open yer yap. Didn't you? They'd have taken her and it would've ended." He huffed, shook his head. "You shoulda' told him, Donnie. Back then. We coulda' convinced him it was nothin' but more lies. He wouldn't have questioned it at the time. But now?" He closed his eyes then looked again at his brother.

Wheezing, Donatello shook his head sadly. Regret was written in his glassy eyes. Regret and sadness.

Raphael rubbed the scar over his right eye that he'd gotten when he rescued Leonardo from the Foot. He couldn't believe how fast Leonardo had moved against his brother. One minute he was just standing there, then . . . he got that look on his face and then,  _wham!_  He was on him. That look…he looked like a demon. His eyes, narrowed down to slits, had been completely white behind his mask. Raphael suppressed a shudder. He didn't think Leonardo could feel that much rage. He understood, though. A little too well.

But still, Leo had really lost his shit. If he hadn't been there, he may have killed Donnie. He swallowed dryly at the grim thought.

He stared at Donatello for a minute, thinking about what happened and where they'd go from here. Donnie said he had his reasons; that he was trying to protect him. What did he mean? Well, he could explain later when he was up for it. But more importantly, would Leo be able to forgive this? Would he if he were in Leo's place? He slapped his knees in frustration.

"Dammit, Donnie, how ya gonna fix this now?"

Donatello shook his head again, miserable and hurting.

"And you're supposed to be the smart one," he grumbled, looking over his shoulder where Leonardo had vanished over the side. He huffed. He turned his gaze back to Michelangelo. "Did you happen to get a license plate number or anything we could use?"

Donatello raised his eyebrows at the clever idea from his brother and, with broken gasps and coughing, looked at Mikey who moved to sit on his knees next to him.

"No, man. I was sorta distracted by my big brother trying to kill my other big brother," he said in an ironic voice, one laced with a touch of fright.

"Great," Raphael said disgustedly.

He covered his mouth as he tried to think of some other way they could help Leonardo find where they took Karai. Much as it turned his stomach to do so, what Donatello had revealed changed things up and made a big mess of everything. And Raphael did not like when life got messy. No, he liked to keep things simple. Like busting heads of bad guys. Simple and straightforward. He rubbed his chin then stood up and offered his hand to help Donatello to his feet. If he got his wish, he'd be busting heads before daybreak. At least he hoped so.

"Let's go down," he said and at Donatello's expression of panic, added, "He won't touch you again, I swear to ya, bro." He said with a sigh, "I won't let 'em. Not that I think he'd lose it again. He's probably gettin' eaten up by guilt for what he done to ya. C'mon."

They headed for the fire escape. Below, they could see Leo moving around in the alley, searching frantically around for something. Raphael glanced at Donatello who was rubbing his throat with his fingertips and grimacing in pain.

"You got us into this, maybe you could figure out a way to find her."

Donatello, keeping his eyes on Leonardo below, nodded gently, then more rapidly as an idea took hold. Yeah, he could at least try to locate any limousine rentals in the possible radius of local neighborhoods that had that particular make and model of limo rented out. It wasn't much of a chance, but it was a starting point.

 _I'll make this up to you, somehow, Leo._ He rubbed his throat again and coughed. _I just hope he gives me the chance._

* * *

Casey knew he had to hurry. But it was on the way. He just wanted to see her. Was that so wrong?

 _I mean, I might die tonight_ , he thought miserably.

Can't a man who's about to die see the woman he loved one more time? He'd just stop in for a second to tell her what was going on. He knew that going up against this clan with the turtles might cost him big time. These guys weren't amateurs. Of course, it was his own fault he was in the middle of this mess. But he couldn't stand by and do nothing. Not when he knew what was going to happen. So, yeah, part of it was his fault for getting mixed up with these pukes, sure, but still… He pressed his mouth into a thin white line. Who was he kidding?

_I'm an idiot._

He pulled the steering wheel around as he turned left. As he drove down the familiar road leading to her place, he thought about the breakup. Oh, he knew it was coming. She was out of his league to begin with and the first time she even gave him a second glance, he couldn't believe it; thought he was imagining it or maybe too drunk to be seeing straight. Those green eyes flashed his way with that look, and it just left him speechless and confused. Mostly confused. Especially, well, because it seemed like she was attached to someone else when he first met her.

Oh, little did he know how right that first impression was.

Yeah, he done his share of screwing things up, too. He knew that. He could man-up to that fact and accept his part in the break up. But there was another reason they were not going to work it out, ever. The reason he tended to look elsewhere for attention. Like the giant invisible elephant in the room it stood between them all the time. Only it wasn't an elephant but a big green mutant turtle in a purple mask.

He ground his teeth and tightened his grip on the steering wheel as his thoughts continued on.

A man can only take so much for so long. Every time he turned around all he heard about with her was how brilliant Purple was. She didn't seem to even realize it, but it was  _all_  she ever talked about. Even when he tried to change the subject, he either couldn't think of anything that seemed to interest her or whatever he'd try to talk about seemed to piss her off. Like she was mad at him for not letting her go on about him. And she was  _always_  going on and on about  _him_.

_'Oh, Casey, Donatello is so smart! Did you know that Donatello rewired the entire lair and put in a plumbing system? Isn't that incredible? He has a photographic memory! He speed-reads mechanical operating manuals. Donatello rebuilt a set of grappling hooks from spare parts he found at the junk yard! He's building motorcycles for each of his brothers from scratch! He's very intelligent for having never even gone to school. Can you imagine how hard that would be? He's self-educated! I think maybe he's a genius, I mean, if Donnie were human think of the things he could do! If only he weren't a mutant. It's really such a shame. Casey! Michelangelo told me Donnie learned a new way to stitch wounds that make the healing time faster! Isn't that amazing?!'_

And on and on it went. Day after day. He had to hear about Purple's amazing intellectual feats of engineering and drafting and medical skills. The amazing all-knowing Purple dominated almost every conversation he'd ever had with her.

The only bad thing she ever pointed out about him was that he wasn't human. Not the fact that he lived in a sewer and no one ever knew what the hell he was talking about and besides that he could barely speak in a simple sentence without stuttering like Porky Pig around her. Casey huffed. And didn't he just know why  _that_  was.  _Gah!_  Just hearing the guy's name set his teeth on edge, that's why he'd started to refer to him by the color of his bandana.

He pulled his truck into an empty spot on the street outside her apartment. He glanced around. The sidewalks and street was deserted. He stared at the top of the steering wheel. Lost in his thoughts.

For a while he'd been confused. April seemed obsessed with the guy when they were alone together, but whenever Purple was actually around, she clammed up and avoided him like he had a contagious disease. Wouldn't go near him. Wouldn't look directly at him. He should've guessed. He was such an idiot.

Girls only act that way around guys they're interested in. He leaned his head back on the headrest of the seat. Something hit him then. He turned his head to one side as he remembered.

That New Year's Eve they'd all spent together sitting in lawn chairs on his roof of his apartment. Purple was there on the roof with the other guys. Drinking and and laughing with Mikey and Raph, he was watching the city light up with the fireworks, having a great time with his buds. April had given each one a kiss on the cheek at midnight. He didn't care, didn't really give it a second thought, that is not until she came to  _Purple_. And it was right behind his back, literally.

Purple was standing off somewhere near the roof access shed. She'd gone to give him his midnight, New Year's kiss. And it was no peck on the check like the others. When he'd turned around to point out a particularly pretty display of fireworks lighting up the starry sky, they stood there; lips locked, eyes closed, holding hands. If Leonardo hadn't loudly cleared his throat at that moment, who knows? Maybe they'd  _still_  be up there kissing.

Casey sighed. But he couldn't even be angry about it. Later, after they'd gone home, as he was about to ask her what the hell that was all about on the roof, she'd tackled him in the bedroom. She'd never been that passionate before. But that night she nearly tore him to pieces. He blew out his breath.  _My god._  Now he understood why it was so hot. It all made sense,  _now_.

 _She didn't want me._  He clenched his burning eyes tightly closed.  _She probably never did._

No, he never stood a chance. It was just a matter of time. He gave a disgusted sigh. And though he'd never admit it aloud, the better man won in the end. He just hoped she was happy. But, she didn't seem too happy at the baseball game. She seemed jealous of Bonnie. A spark of hope stirred in the bottom of his heart. Maybe she still cared . . . maybe things weren't working out with Purple. Maybe things  _couldn't_  work out with them. No matter what Raph told him about Leo and Karai. Maybe it just wasn't possible. Maybe he had it all wrong all along. It wouldn't be the first time.

He held up her photo. His eyes roved over her pretty, freckled face. She seemed happy with him sometimes, didn't she? Maybe if he tried to be a better man, she'd come around. But he'd have to prove to her he could do it. He clutched her photo in his fist and then tossed it to the side.

He needed to see her. He'd talk to her later, he didn't have time to get into things tonight. But maybe, later, they might be able to go get coffee. April liked coffee, a lot. He couldn't stand it, but whatever it took to get a few minutes to talk to her. He got out and looked up. The windows from her apartment were all lit up.

_Well, she's home._

He swallowed nervously and wondered if she'd even let him up. He skipped up the stone steps and moved to press the button to call her when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the front door was open.

"Huh, that ain't safe."

He went in and shut the door firmly behind him. He looked up the staircase and then with a shrug climbed to the second floor. He moved down the hallway until his feet stuttered to a halt. Pieces of broken wood lay scattered all over the carpet. His face shot up and then he was running. He used the door frame to come to a quick stop. With a hammering heart, his face darted about as he stepped over the busted door.

"April?" He called out.

He ran into the kitchen, and took in the scene. A vase lay shattered on the floor along with several tipped over chairs. He noticed a sharpening stick from her knife set on the floor and a bat. He spun on his heel. His stomach flipped.

"Oh, god. April?  _April?!"_

He ran down the hallway and kicked open her bedroom door. The bed was made and the room was untouched, for some reason that gave him a moment of relief. He spun around, checking the bathroom on his way back to the living room, running his hands through his strands of hair as he did. The coffee table was tipped to one side and a chair as well.

Then out of the corner of his eye, he caught the gleam of something metal sticking out from the wall. He moved closer as dread grabbed him by the throat and shook him like a rabid beast. With a shaking hand, he pulled the shuriken from the wall and caught in his other hand the note that was pinned. He unfolded the letter. In neat writing he read the words written,

_Dogs will be obedient._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEP! Hope you liked that! I took my own advice and tried to slow down to really develop the scenes better! What do you think? Rest assured, big answers are coming soon...
> 
> OH! AND I just caught something, earlier in this story, Donatello tried to kiss April but as you know that ended miserably and he felt that he ruined his first kiss. I clarified that it was to be his first 'real' kiss that HE initiated at the end of Chapter 4. This New Year's Eve kiss would've been Donnie & April's first kiss if it wasn't marred by the fact that the guys didn't count it as such...hmmm...perhaps I should write it up as a one-shot as one of my guest reviewers so kindly suggested! What do you think? XD
> 
> (And I DID! New Year's Eve Kisses Don't Count - was the little story borne of this revelation)


	9. Present Feigns the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I would like to be able to breathe – to be able to love her by memory or fidelity. But my heart aches. I love you continuously, intensely." –Albert Camus

Leonardo barely registered the sound of his brothers dropping one after another to the ground from the fire escape. Crouching, he studied the spot where the limo had crashed into the brick wall. The bricks were cracked and scarred from the impact. Black paint from the limo's finish was scraped along some of them. Other than that there was nothing he could use. His fingers traced along one coarse edge, the bits of paint fell away like tiny pieces of ash. He closed his fist; rested it on the cold, jagged surface. He had to find her somehow. But he had nothing to go on. 

 _Nothing_.

He stood, twisted and kicked a garbage can sending it rattling down the alley, skittering and banging until it crashed into another at the far end. Two rats scurried frantically out into the open then slipped into a wide crack in the foundation of the apartment building. The action did nothing to ease his torment; if only he could rid himself of the tumultuous storm of emotions that raged within him as easily.

"Leo," Mikey said, coming up alongside him. Mikey made sure to stay just out of range so that if Leonardo did decide to strike out, at least he'd have to take a step towards him, giving Mikey a chance to jump back. He felt the muscles in his legs bunch as Leo moved. But Leonardo only turned his head; not meeting his brother's eyes.

"C'mon, bro. Let's get home. I think Donnie can come up with something to help . . . find her."

Leonardo turned his face towards Donatello who was standing slightly behind Raphael who was watching him carefully. The look so often seen on his hot-headed brother's face in the dojo when he sparred with him was there now. Eager, tense, defiant. He was more than ready to fight. Heat and cold washed over him. Leo felt the anger recede back even as his heart still raced. He didn't want to fight his brothers. He clenched his fists and released them.

And yet, the words Donatello had said repeated in his mind interlaced with the fact that for two years his brother had kept this from him. For two years, he allowed Leonardo to be burdened with the belief that Karai had betrayed him, had seduced him so her father could capture and torture him and then kill him. He felt his hands shake but pulled back the anger that threatened like a dark shadow over his heart. He pulled it back, folded it inside himself and pushed it down.

He would not lose restraint over himself like that ever again.

He moved past Michelangelo and his brothers; walking through the center of the alley. He stopped just a step or two beyond where Donatello still stood behind Raphael. He didn't need to look directly at him to feel the fear coming from him in waves. It made the guilt in his stomach twist. But the anger and tension he felt from Raphael set his teeth on edge. He knew he deserved it, though. No matter what, he wouldn't lose control again.

"I'm sorry, Donnie," he said in a strained voice without looking at Donatello. "I lost control. It…it won't happen again," he added quietly.

He glanced at his brother who stared at him with glassy eyes brimming with remorse and fear; regret warred with bitterness within him. Making direct eye contact with Donatello did something to him. He stepped sideways and turned towards him. Donatello involuntarily stepped back; raised his hands, the bandages on his right hand and wrist had started to fray and unravel after his struggle with Leonardo on the roof.

Raph shifted his feet and eyed Leonardo with a look of warning. There was the slight tilt to Raphael's head, the 'tell' that he was ready to spring if provoked. All the while he didn't move from his protective position in front of Donatello. When Leo didn't move, he crossed his arms over his chest. Leonardo felt another wave of guilt ride over him, trampling him. He didn't blame Raphael for feeling protective. Though he swore to himself that he wouldn't lose control again, he felt the simmering fury looming and stalking around the edges of his subconscious like a collared demon waiting to be unleashed.

Bottom line: he was glad that Raphael was there between Donatello and himself.

But suddenly, he wanted answers; needed to know more. He wanted to hear what she'd said that night; about her feelings and her part, if any, in the terrible events; and he wanted to know why Donatello kept this from him. Leonardo frowned deeply with hurt and confusion as his eyes found and locked with Donatello's once more.

The words fought and struggled to be heard. The questions rose up and battered against each other, one not dominating another so nothing coherent escaped from his mouth. Everything he needed to know, everything he wanted to ask was laced with barbs and thorns and they sliced through his heart and soul even as he tried to form them into words. All his old wounds opened once more, bleeding out where no one could see, where no one could reach to repair them.

"She…when she…did…did…"

Language failed him. The words were too wrapped within him by vines of confusion, fear, hope, rage and bitterness. He closed his eyes; dropping his chin to his chest and shook his head once to clear it. No. Not now. There was no time. Later. He'd have answers later. When his brother could speak. Maybe then he'd be able to form the questions to get the answers he both needed and feared. He turned away, striding towards the manhole cover at the end of the alley; leaving his brothers to follow a few steps behind.

"Let's go," he murmured.

* * *

Splinter dropped the book he was reading to the floor as his eyes fell on Donatello's marked throat.

"My son, what has happened?" he gasped, rising to his feet.

He looked from one son to another as they entered the lair. There was an oppressive, dark energy around them that made Splinter's fur bristle. Something had happened and from their heavy expressions, it was something between his children. Donatello walked into the kitchen followed closely by Raphael. Michelangelo collapsed into the arm chair with a sigh. He wore an expression of weariness that was not natural for the usually cheerful boy. He turned his blue eyes and watched as Leonardo walked by.

Splinter raised one claw towards his eldest son. But Leonardo would not make eye contact with him. He slipped through the room like a wraith. Splinter watched as he disappeared into his room without a word; leaving behind a fog of anger and something else. What was it that Splinter felt from him? Sadness? Regret? Guilt?

* * *

Once inside the safety and privacy of his room, Leonardo collapsed onto his knees next to his bed. Chest heaving, he gathered up the sheets in his fists and pressed his face into the bundled fabric; hiding away his pain; trying to push away what he was feeling. His eyes burned and his heart thudded painfully; feeling as though it expanded and contracted with each beat as fully and as tightly as it could. His mind reeled. Control slipped as an avalanche of emotions tumbled through him; burying him; leaving him helpless, weak and dizzy.

_'She wanted me to tell you . . . she didn't betray you. That she had no part in it. In any of it. Ahhh-and she still loved you. And always would.'_

_Oh god, was it true? Could it be true?_  Her name flitted through his mind; whispering as it landed like butterfly wings upon his imagination,  _Karai_. Her beautiful face rose up in his memory blinding him with acute yearning and pain.

Each expansion and contraction of his heartbeat ached with the potential delicate promise of the future along with the ugly reality of the bitter loss of cheated time and opportunity. All this time  _wasted_  inside this black hole of anguish when he could have been searching for her, spending time with her, holding her, loving her. . . but instead, all this time he thought . . . all this time he'd been  _tormented_  by the fact that she had deceived him and used him. All the nights filled with nightmares of her hurting him; physically, mentally, emotionally. She'd become monstrous in some of his wicked nighttime visions.

During the day he'd come to feel hatred when he allowed himself to think of her. A deep, bitter hatred. His memories had become jaded and twisted by what he thought was the awful truth. And even worse was the haunting shame he'd feel when his dreams shifted to reflect his lingering, intense longing for her touch despite her deceit.

And now, he knew the truth. She did love him. She never betrayed him. And Donatello had kept this knowledge, this  _salvation_ , from him all these months.

He opened his mouth with a silent cry of pain. His chest tightened. He gasped. It hurt. It hurt so much. The peeling away of the rigid layers of his defenses back to the vulnerable, neglected, aching, love beneath. His body shook as he pulled the blankets taunt between his fists; nearly tearing the cotton material. It took everything he had not to scream out the agony he felt at that moment. Eye closed tightly, he moved his face to one side; forced himself to take in a long, slow breath and release it, then again. And again. He had to calm down. Had to think clearly.

But how could Donatello have kept this from him? Didn't he see how much he was hurting? He said something about having a reason for doing this to him. He raised his face and stared at the familiar bricks that made up the wall next to his bed. Again, he breathed in and out; deeply and slowly.

Donatello had been afraid. He had almost died at their hands,  _her_  hands, or so it seemed. It must have been terrifying for his brothers, not least of all, Donatello who was the one to attend to his wounds. Okay, he could understand Donatello's hesitation. But two  _years_  had passed. . . When was he going to tell him what Karai had said? Was he  _ever_  going to tell him? Would Donnie have let him spend the rest of his life believing a lie? What would he have done in his place?

He swallowed and sniffled, though no tears fell from his burning eyes. He thought of April and had his answer. Knowing how his brother felt for her; he would've told Donatello. He would not have interfered in their love. He said nothing as he watched them last summer. He sat in the shadows as they moved towards the barn together. Knowing that something might happen between them, but felt strongly that he should not interfere, that it was not up to him to decide who his brothers loved and pursued. As long as they were safe.

_Ah. But there it was._

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Pervasive guilt gnawed at him. Donatello didn't think he'd be safe with Karai. And could he really blame him? Yes, he'd have kept the secret from his brother if he felt his safety was in danger. He laughed a soft breathy chuckle in the silence of his room at the irony of it. And Donatello had not been wrong. He'd certainly paid a steep price for his pursuit of Shredder's daughter.

He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.  _Shredder's daughter._  It had to be  _her_  that he fell for. In all the wide world, it had to be the daughter of his family's greatest enemy. He suddenly felt very empty and hollowed out.

Leonardo knew he was at a cross roads. He would do what he could to save her . . . and then . . . What? He wasn't sure. He just didn't know. Once, he thought there'd be a way to work around the situation with their families. He sighed heavily. He didn't even know if she had any feelings left for him. Maybe she'd moved on. Two years was a long time.

A disturbing thought hit him. Hell, she could be married to a Foot soldier for all he knew.

Slowly, with that unsettling thought creeping around his mind, he rose to his feet and pulled the shirt over his head, balled it up and rubbed his face roughly with it. Then he hooked his thumbs into the waist band of his dirty and ripped pants; slipped them down from his waist and over his toned and scarred legs and off his feet. He bundled his clothes and tossed them into the fabric hamper. April had brought it for him when she'd brought these clothes, soon after he had recovered.

He sat on the edge of the bed; flexed his fingers; one hand, then the other. The knuckles and joints in his fingers often ached since his capture and recovery. He'd asked April for help. He couldn't stand the sight of his scars, for the memories that accompanied them, but also he was haunted by the cold. He couldn't stand it. Donatello told him he nearly lost a finger on one hand and nearly both on his other from the frostbite; not to mention both of his toes on his left foot. Just thinking about it made him shiver.

But thanks to Donatello's care and expertise, he was spared the disfigurement. He sighed deeply; raising his eyes to his bedroom door. No, he wasn't angry at his brother anymore. How could he be? Donatello was trying to protect him, just as he said.

And if the roles were reversed and he felt Donatello was in danger, he'd do everything he could to protect him, even if it cost him Donatello's friendship.

Well, that wouldn't be the price Donatello had to pay for trying to do his best to protect him. He'd get the full story from him in time. But in the meantime, he'd make sure that Donatello knew they'd always be brothers . . . and friends.

He stood and pulled a shirt and pair of pants from the neat, folded piles stacked in the corner of his room near the candles he used for meditation.

* * *

While Leonardo was in his room, Splinter moved into the kitchen. Raphael sat at the table, his forehead propped up by the heels of both hands.

Donatello stood by the counter, a glass of water in his wrapped hand. On a small glass plate he was crushing several aspirin with the back of a butter knife. He scraped the gritty pieces into the water then downed the mixture with one long painful swallow. He scrunched his face and smacked his mouth several times in disgust.

Splinter moved in front of the tall turtle and gently took the sides of his face with his hands, turning his son's head one way then another as he examined the bruised flesh. It was clear that one of them had done this by the marks.

"Raphael, I trust it is painful for Donatello to speak at the moment. I wish for you to explain how this happened." He waited and when Raphael did not open his mouth, he found his patience waning. "Answer me  _now_."

Raphael's hands slapped down onto the table. His green eyes flashed. "Sensei," he started, appearing very uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat. "Karai is back in New York."

Splinter's amber eyes grew round, then narrowed. Of all the things Raphael might have said at that moment, he'd never anticipated this.

"What is this you say? And…and how does this apply to your brother's injury?"

He looked from Raphael to Donatello who had refilled his glass of water. He took his son by one elbow and eased Donatello away from the counter to sit in a chair. Donatello sat. He sipped his water and grimaced. Master Splinter braced his claws on the back of an empty chair. He stared at Raphael waiting for him to clarify his statement.

Michelangelo stepped into the kitchen. He spun one of the chairs around and straddled it. He was not going to miss out on this conversation.

"Explain," Splinter said in a low, growling voice. His patience was gone.

Raphael looked at Donatello then at Michelangelo who held up a finger.

"I've got this." He looked up at Splinter. He held both hands out parallel to each other in a chopping motion, "Two years ago, when we saved Leo from the Foot, Donnie had a little one-on-one with Karai as we were getting away."

He paused and looked at Donatello who dropped his eyes down to his fidgeting fingers at the base of the glass in front of him on the table. "Sounds like she asked Donnie to tell Leo that she never betrayed him."

His eyes rose to the ceiling, as he leaned back, tilting the front of the legs up, holding onto the back of the chair with his fingers, "Oh yeah, and she asked Donnie to tell Leo that she still loved him." The chair legs snapped against the floor as he leaned forward. He moved his hands up and then braced his elbows on top of the chair to rest his cheeks in his fists.

Splinter closed his eyes and spoke a string of curse words in Japanese. His sons stared at him, stunned. Michelangelo couldn't hide an incredulous smile, but the look on his father's face made him quickly cover it with one hand. He cleared his throat.

"We were on patrol and there was a crash," Raphael filled in, gruffly. "We saw these people fightin' in the alley and then we saw it was actually  _Karai_  being kidnapped and Leo wanted to stop them."

Splinter's face shot up at this.

"I told him not to do it. I tried to remind him what that  _bit_ …uh, um, what  _Karai_  had done to him. But he got all worked up. Then," he turned his eyes to Donatello who rubbed his throat with a pained expression, "egghead here decided that would be a perfect moment to reveal this big secret he's kept."

"Then Leo went nuts and almost killed Donnie," Michelangelo stated with a shiver. "His eyes got all wicked and white behind his mask. It scared the crap outta me."

Raphael shot him a look that said,  _that wasn't really necessary_ , but Mikey ignored it. Splinter marched around the table.

" **LEONARDO!** " he shouted and his sons flinched behind him.

Leonardo emerged from his room in a fresh pair of black pants and gray t-shirt. He paused for a moment; standing meekly in his father's long shadow; sensing the flowing tension and boiling anger coming off his Sensei. He moved closer; hands at his sides, blinking and lowering his gaze to the floor. Long ago he'd faced the full fury of his enraged father. Despite being a man fully grown, his father's anger filled him with a sharp and sudden fright; making him feel more a child than adult.

"Leonardo, I cannot believe that you . . . you laid violent hands on your brother over that . . .  _that_  . . ."

Leonardo could not bear to hear the next word from his Sensei's mouth, so he cut him off.

"Hai, Sensei."

"So, this is true? Leonardo, I cannot begin to express how disappointed I am . . ."

"I…I am deeply sorry for my loss of control. I will make it up to Donatello."

"Yes, you certainly will." His tail lashed about. "And I will decide on a suitable punishment for this action."

Leonardo dipped his head in submission. Splinter silently considered him as apprehension rose up inside of his heart. "I am deeply disappointed to learn that you were willing to put your brothers in harm's way in an attempt to aid an  _enemy_  of  _this_   _family_ ," he hissed.

Leonardo's eyelids closed as dread filled him. He felt the room tilt. This was uncomfortably familiar. No. Not again. He would not fight with his father about Karai again. He needed to keep things under control. He would not repeat his past mistakes.

"It was not . . . I didn't plan -" he started to explain in a soft voice; before he could go on, Raphael interrupted him. He strode across the room and stood next to Splinter.

"Hey, Leo-"

Michelangelo and Donatello drifted to the living room and took up positions around the back of their worn out sofa. Donatello sat on the arm rest, watching with nervous eyes; darting between family members. _Oh man, was there going to be another blow up?_ He never meant for all this to get stirred up again. If he had it his way, he would've never said anything to Leo. But he couldn't let his brother make the decision to help her or not without knowing the truth.

He watched as Leonardo shifted uncomfortably in front of Master Splinter. The way his shoulders slumped and head hung low in obedient subservience bothered Donatello deeply. He knew that Leo wouldn't want to get into a fight with their father; not after how badly things went last time he was in this position. The memory made Donatello cringe. He really hoped Splinter would keep his composure this time. He couldn't help but think he'd made a terrible mistake in keeping Karai's plea of innocence from Leonardo.

_I really screwed everything up here. Please don't fight with Leonardo, Sensei._

"No matter what Donnie said she told him, you really can't believe it," Raphael said.

"He would not be so foolish to believe Shredder's wretch again, Raphael," Splinter stated coldly while staring at his son. "Would you, Leonardo." It was not posed as a question.

Internally, Leonardo winced. He felt the familiar rush to defend his love against his family's misunderstanding and judgment. He felt his face flush, the back of his neck burned. But like the bile in the back of his throat, he bit back every response and swallowed the words like blackened bits of charred hope. Swallowed back his reasoning; his protests; his pride. He stood; head lowered; holding his tongue.

 _I will not fight with them over her again._  Not again. But he sensed the ugly familiar feeling of being backed into a corner by their judgment of her and expectations of him.

Raph glanced sideways at Splinter and continued speaking, "You may not remember everything, but I  _do_." He jabbed his thumb into his plastron. His voice grew rougher as he went on, "We pulled you outta there just in time. Me, Donnie and Mikey. They were tossin' you around like a toy. And she was right there along with them. We hauled you . . ." his throat hitched; he caught his breath then rushed on, "bleedin' and half-dead outta there right before that bitch was gonna cut your throat in front of the entire Foot clan and Shredder."

Leonardo felt his heart starting to race as his family stared at him, expecting an answer to  _that_. But what could he say that wouldn't make it sound like he was insane? That no matter what, he loved her and always would? No. That wouldn't go over well. His eyes darted around for help and finally they landed on Donatello.

"Leo, she was  _lying_ , bro," Raph stated firmly.

Michelangelo looked at Donatello who was staring at Leonardo. He studied his brother's expression for a moment then said, "No. She wasn't, was she, Donnie? She meant what she said to you." He turned to Splinter and Raphael and crossed his arms with a shake of his head, "She wasn't lying."

Donatello, never breaking eye contact with Leonardo, gave a small shake of his head. " _No_ ," he said hoarsely and everyone fixed their sights on him. Internally he quailed, but said, " _Wasn't a lie."_  

He dropped his eyes to the floor, unable to maintain eye contact with Leo as he said in a whisper, " _Begged me_."

Leo felt his head spin and a sharp dart of pain lance his heart. More wounds bled inside him.  _She begged him? She begged him to tell me. And he didn't. She begged him._ Though he couldn't ever picture Karai begging, he believed Donatello. And he felt suddenly very nauseous.

Splinter's tail lashed back and forth in irritation. "Donatello, you are only confusing your brother." He glared at Leonardo. "Where there should be no confusion on this matter."

The ceiling started to press down on Leonardo as air in the lair became stale and suffocating. He raised his clammy hands up half way to a surrendering pose as he stepped to the back and then to one side. On wobbly legs, he retreated out from the semi-circle of his family towards the exit. He had to get away from them. He needed to think, he needed to get out. He needed to find her.

_She begged him._

"C'mon. Leo, you can't believe this garbage." Raphael shouted, "She tried to  _kill_  you!"

"I…I don't know…I need to…"

 _. . . begged_   _him_.

"Where are you going?" Splinter snapped. "You will not leave. Come  _back_  here, Leonardo."

 _Begged_.

He continued edging more and more quickly towards the exit; head shaking; hands up; pleading; asking with his motions for understanding; knowing he'd receive none.

"I…I need to…I have to . . . can't let them…hurt her…"

"Leonardo!" Splinter shouted, making his steps falter.

"Leo, wait! Nothing's changed. She's still part of the Foot Clan."

Raphael ran over and caught his older brother by the elbow, halting his escape. Leonardo turned a slightly panicked look in his direction. He didn't want to fight with them. He swore he'd never ever fight with any of them over Karai ever again. And yet, here he was stuck in the same position as before. Torn between the love of his life and his family. Being forced to choose one over the other.

He couldn't deal with this right now. The panicked feeling was growing inside of him, threatening to block out reason and composure. He had to get out. He had to try to find her.

By the look on his brother's face, Raphael knew he couldn't pretend that he had a chance to convince him it had been nothing but a lie, so he tried a different tack. His voice was uncharacteristically gentle, as he spoke quietly to him, "Wait, wait, bro. Think about this. I mean, c'mon. This life is eventually gonna catch up to her. It coulda' happened when she was in Tokyo."

Leo blinked at him, lost. But slowly he comprehended where Raphael was going.

"You know who she is. What she's part of. You can't protect her forever." Raph huffed. "What are you gonna do? Travel the world being her shadow?"

Leonardo's face darkened; then before he could mask it from his brother, Leonardo's eyes filled with such a deep indescribable sadness that Raphael released his hold on his brother's arm.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Leo, Raph's right," Michelangelo said from behind Raphael.

Raphael continued quietly, "Whatever you're thinkin' about you 'n her . . ." he shook his head. "It ain't gonna work. You gotta let her go."

Leonardo jerked his face quickly away from him, before Raphael could see the tears building, threatening to spill forward. _Let her go?_ He'd only just found her again.

He gathered his self-control together and pushed back the emotions. Pushed them down and maintained his tentative grasp on control. His brother's words were too close to his own despairing conclusions he'd just come to while in his room. He gritted his teeth, allowing anger and determination to devour the emotional energy roiling inside him instead of the weakness of despair.

Raphael was right, but he  _could_  save her this one time. He just needed to find her. He needed a plan, he had to get out and think without his family pressing in on him. His heart pounding and aching, he turned abruptly. Ignoring his father's angry calls for him to stop; sweeping his arm back to keep Raphael away; he stormed up to the exit. Before he could go any further, the entranceway burst open.

Casey pushed past a stunned Leonardo; dashing inside, hysterical and out of breath.

" _Guys!_  They got April! They  _took_  her!"

* * *

Karai's eyes rolled as her eyelids fluttered. They opened; then closed when the room spun. Again they fluttered open. Shadow and light blurred then cleared. A huffing, grunting sound of someone struggling was coming from one side of her and she felt her body being rocked and bumped. Turning her head made it spin again, but she fought through it and her reward was clarity.

Her eyes roved about, taking in her surroundings. She was in a strange room; on the floor; sitting on a large mattress; back up against a wall. Across from her was a metal table with a lap top. Next to the table was video equipment; a tri-pod and camera. From the ceiling hung a cylinder with a handle to draw down what most likely was a screen for projecting images. Her stomach sank as her eyes landed on the camera again. It was positioned towards where she sat.

Looking down, she found her hands were on her lap, duck tape wrapped around both wrists, sealing them together. Her red dress was in tatters from her struggle. One torn shoulder strap hung limply over her bare shoulder. Her legs were folded beneath her, but not tied. She shifted them out from under her to find they'd fallen asleep. They tingled as she tried to sit forward to get a look at what was making her body bump around.

When she moved her head, something jerked around her throat. Reaching up and feeling with her fingertips, she realized with a start that there was a leather collar fastened around her neck and from the sound of it, it was connected to the wall behind her by a short chain. Enough for her to maybe lay down but not much more room than that.

_This is bad._

Someone was next to her on the mattress. From the color of clothing she wore, Karai knew it was a woman. She was struggling to remove a bag from her head. Though feeling confused and anxious, Karai stretched out her arms and managed to get an edge of the top between her fingers. Together, they succeeding in yanking the bag free. From beneath a mess of tangled red hair, a woman with green eyes and freckles stared at her then her face darted around. Karai noticed the woman was bare foot and wearing pink pajama bottoms and her shirt was torn and hanging open, exposing bare flesh beneath. She averted her eyes.

"Where am I?" The woman asked.

She turned back to stare with a glazed, fearful expression at Karai as she attempted to pull her shirt back together trying to regain some dignity. Her wrists were bound the same as Karai, with silver duct tape. But it didn't look like she was wearing a collar. She tossed her head back, knocking the stray locks away. Free from the mess of red hair, her face appeared.

Karai started as recognition struck her. Karai knew this woman. Her heart skipped. But why did they have  _her_? What did she have to do with this opposing clan?

"I know you," Karai said, frowning then raising her eyebrows. "You're their friend. The turtles . . . Angie . . . No, April, right? Yes, April O'Neil. I remember now."

April's eyes widened as her own recognition of the dark haired woman seated next to her set in. "Karai? What . . . What the hell is going on? I thought you were in Tokyo."

"I . . . I was. My father sent me back here after he was attacked the other night. These people, they killed my guards and kidnapped me. Looks like you were, too. I'm pretty sure I know who did this. A rival clan. I believe they call themselves,  _Venom_."

" _What?_  I  _knew_  those weren't Foot soldiers," she said more to herself than Karai. Her face snapped up. "B…But why am I here, I have nothing to do with any of that."

Karai shrugged and shook her head, as baffled as April. "I have no idea. I can only think they took me maybe for ransom, either that," Karai's eyes roamed around the room, "or they plan on torturing me to find out where we have my father recovering."

A chill went through April. April stared at her, then started to wiggle her hands roughly, trying to loosen the duct tape. "You're father. You mean the Shredder." April brought her wrists up to her mouth and started to gnaw at part of the tape with her teeth. A tiny edge poked up and she grabbed it with the corner of her canines and tugged at it.

Karai only stared straight ahead at the video equipment again. April stopped struggling for a moment. She dropped her hands to her lap.

"You know what, you're lucky I'm tied up, otherwise, I would kick your ass for what you did to Leo."

Karai sent her a slow, sidelong glance that said,  _I'd like to see you try._  She huffed and looked away while rolling her eyes, without a word. Karai knew she'd have the red-head down without breaking a sweat. But she considered the last part of what she'd just said. She tilted her head and looked back at April.

"And what, exactly, do you think I did to . . . him?"

Never one to keep her temper in check, April felt her cheeks grow hot with fury. Her green eyes flashed. "What do I think you did? You . . . You tricked him into thinking you cared about him. And . . . and because of that, he was captured and  _tortured_."

April scrambled to the edge of the mattress and stood up. She took a step and kicked Karai in the calf and then again. Karai jumped, more in shock at the sudden attack than in pain.

April hollered as she kicked Karai, "You  _bitch_!"

Karai winced, cursed and pulled her legs away from any further assault; tucking them back under her. In her bound state, there wasn't much else she  _could_  do. April was very,  _very_  lucky that she was restrained.

She gritted her teeth and glowered up at the red-head but said nothing. She better pray they never meet again outside this room. April paced in front of her; her bare feet making little patting noises on the cement floor. Karai watched her every move with her eyes; imagining the ways she'd break every bone in her skinny little body.

"How could you do something so…so  _vile_? You have no idea how much you hurt him. You made him think it was possible for him and a human . . . that it was possible to-to be  _physical_  with a woman . . . that she'd accept his appearance . . ."

April paused in her rant and glanced at Karai. Her green eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else in her expression that caught Karai off guard. Karai blinked, uneasy. What was it? Curiosity, perhaps? April opened her mouth and her head tilted a bit to one side. She looked like she had something on the tip of her tongue but was debating internally whether she'd say it or not.

 _Wait a minute_ , Karai thought with a sudden lurch in her stomach. Was she about to ask about her and Leonardo?

Karai's eyes widened even as a blush crept up the sides of her face. How the hell did this person know they'd been intimate anyway?  _Oh my god._  Well, if her father figured it out somehow, then his brothers probably did as well. She pinched her eyes closed. One of his brothers probably blabbed.

Ugh,  _sure_  they can share that type of personal information but they couldn't deliver a simple message. Frustration and embarrassment tied together into a large knot in her stomach. She clenched her jaw tightly and maintained her defiant silence.

April looked away and the strange moment passed. Much to Karai's relief. She shook her head in disgust and went on in a hoarse voice.

"But it wasn't true. None of it was. It was all just a sick game to you.  _Ugh!_  I shouldn't even be telling you this. You probably get off on it."

Karai rolled her fingers into fists; the tape crinkled from the tension. April shook her head and growled wordlessly at her and kicked the edge of the mattress in frustration. The motion bumped Karai and made the collar choke her a little. She swallowed back the jerk of pain.

Okay, she knew that his family believed she had a part to play in his capture and torture, and thanks to the one in purple, no one knew that she hadn't had a choice in the matter and that it was all just an act. Karai huffed through her nose. She could understand his friend's anger. If she was in her place, she'd be feeling the same way.

"You make me sick," April spat the words at her.

Yes, she could understand his friend's anger, but this was getting on her last nerve. She didn't need to be judged by this dimwit. Especially when she didn't know what she was talking about.

"And you learned all this through . . ." Karai shook her head, eye brows raised, "his brothers?" she asked in an even voice.

April loomed over her, fuming. "Yes, they told me everything."

Karai huffed and shook her head, looking away. "Not  _everything_ , apparently," she mumbled, but April caught it.

"What? What is that supposed to mean?"

Karai flashed furious eyes at April. "It means you don't know what you're talking about."

April raised her bound hands and pointed a finger at her. "For a kunoichi, you suck at lying. You know that?"

Karai gritted her teeth, biting back the rude remarks that danced on the tip of her tongue. "I never harmed . . ." she had gone to say his name but it caught in her throat. She hadn't said it aloud earlier, but now when she tried to, she found it…difficult.  _Huh_. That surprised her. She cleared her throat and went on, concentrating on keeping her voice even, ". . . harmed him. I had no part in it. My father forced me to be there. I tried to help him escape."

"How can you sit there and lie to my face?" April narrowed her eyes and scowled down at Karai. "They saw you try to cut his throat in front of the entire Foot Clan."

Karai's shoulders slumped. Her head pounded. The collar around her neck was irritating her and rubbing her skin, as well as her temper, raw.  _Why am I even trying with this idiot? I don't have to prove anything to her._ But something told her to keep trying. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know. She took a deep breath in and blew it slowly out. She thought of something.

"Were his hands bound?"

April blinked. "What?"

"Were his hands bound when you rescued him?" She pressed her lips into a thin line and held up her own hands to illustrate what she meant. This girl was dense as a brick. April shook her head.

"I can't . . . I don't remember."

"They weren't. His hands weren't bound because I cut him loose," she said patiently through clenched teeth.

"That doesn't prove anything to me."

That did it.

"Listen, you stupid, little,  _dimwitted bitch_ ," she snarled, losing her temper. "I could  _never_  hurt  _him_." Karai shouted, " _I love_ -"

The door swung open instantly silencing her. Both women's alarmed faces snapped towards the door. A man dressed in a dark blue uniform strode in. The material was so dark it was nearly black. He wore black gloves with large square, silver buckles along the outer edge of his arm, ending at his elbows. On his feet were similar black, knee-high boots with silver buckles on the outside of his legs. On one side of his chest was the emblem April noticed back at her apartment: a pair of silver coiled snakes, their bodies coiled at the base with the length of them rising up, entwined, and their open mouths featuring long, curved fangs positioned in opposite directions.

April shuffled backwards until she hit the shorter wall to Karai's right. She tried a snap kick to keep him back and the soldier swatted it away like it was a gnat. He reached out and gripped April by the elbows.

She shrieked as he shifted and quickly twisted; swinging her around off her feet. Her body flew over Karai, who ducked as much as she could. April just missed colliding with her by a few inches as she slammed and bounced onto the mattress. April's head rocked as her back struck the wall then fell in a heap next to Karai with a grunt and hiss of pain.

The soldier stalked across back to them and stood with arms folded, looking down through densely netted black eye-holes. Menace oozed from him at he stared at the women. Karai stared defiantly up at him. Her eyes burned with hatred and spite.

"Don't touch her again!" Karai snarled. The soldier snorted softly in her direction; unimpressed with her command.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Answers are coming! Do you like the rival's clan name? I hope it isn't too lame XD
> 
> Hey! Who's ready for a REmatch between Donnie & Casey from their fight in Mikey's Girl?! Well, get ready for the upcoming chapter. O.o Reviews are welcome and devoured up upon receipt! Talk to me, people!


	10. REMATCH!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my readers who felt Donatello didn't receive a fair representation in a fight between him and Casey in the story, Mikey's Girl. I was planning this scene all along, but this is for you Donnie fans. XD Enjoy and buckle up!

Casey's eyes were bulging out of his skull as he raced down the steps down into the living room area to stand in front of Raphael and Splinter. He ran both hands through his dark hair. The words tumbled from his mouth so fast, Raphael frowned; his face moved side to side following Casey's head as it bobbed and shook as he spoke.

"Ah, man. Leo was right. I shoulda' never got involved with those bastards. What the hell was I thinkin'? Oh fuck.  _FUCK_!"

Splinter held up a claw to quiet his string of curses.

"Mr. Jones. Please, what has happened?"

"Okay, right." He dropped his chin and raised his light blue eyes as he confessed to his surrogate family the truth, "I…I've been workin' for Venom. They're a rival to the Foot Clan."

Master Splinter's amber eyes widened. He titled his head, listening intently. Michelangelo gasped, mouth hanging open.

"What?!" Raphael hollered. He knew his friend wasn't the smartest human in the city, but this was taking things to a new level of stupidity. Raph touched the sides of his temples with his fingertips and threw his hands out to the side, "Of all the moronic things . . . You get mixed up in another ninja clan?! What were you thinkin'?"

"I was just doin' stupid little jobs. Bustin' heads of Foot soldiers." He shook his head, his long hair flapping against the sides of his face. He patting the air, swiping his hand from left to right, dismissing any further protests. "That doesn't matter now. Listen, they had me scopin' out a joint. They had a few of us scattered around the city watching for this sedan. This blonde got out and I let them know. That's all, at least, that's all I thought I had to do."

He looked helplessly from Master Splinter to Mikey to Raph. He threw his hands up in the air next to his head. He paced back and forth.

"Ugh, I screwed up, okay? I screwed up big time Masta Splinter. They…They wanted me to help out. With what they had planned to do with…with the lady."

Raphael's face fell into confusion, Mikey looked from Casey's frantic expression as he stared at Master Splinter, willing him to comprehend the situation, back to Leonardo, still standing quietly at the doorway. He didn't know what Casey was talking about in regards to the clan wanting his 'help' with the woman they captured, but an uneasiness pooled in his stomach. Then a disturbing thought struck him as he remembered the ninja that had gotten out of the limo and grabbed Karai from behind. Karai was wearing a blonde wig. His blue eyes widened as he put the pieces together. 

 _Oh man. This is bad with a capital 'B'._  

Before he could say what he'd figured out, Casey raised his hands.

He went on in a shaky voice, "I wanted no part in what they were planning. But I couldn't stand back and let them hurt her without doin' somethin'. I don't care who she is. No way. No  _way_." He swept his hands through the air for emphasis. "I told them that was it. I was done. I left. But I wasn't gonna let them get away with it. I was comin' here. To ask for help. B…But I stopped over at April's to see her."

From the corner of his eye, Michelangelo saw Donatello rise slowly from the arm of the couch. His body rigid with sudden intensity.  _Uh oh._  

Casey put a hand on his hip and shook his head. He continued in a thick voice, "And the place was wrecked…she was gone. They left this."

He held up a scrap of wrinkled paper with a hand that shook. Michelangelo jumped to his feet from the back of the couch, stepped past Donatello who was standing stiffly a few feet away from Casey; staring at him with an acute focus. He snatched the note from Casey's hand and stood next to Raphael.

He read it aloud and scowled, "Dogs will be obedient?"

He looked up at Casey; eyes full of questions; handing the note to Raphael to read. Raph's eyes roved over the note and he crumpled it in his fist. He pinched his eyes closed tightly.

" _Dammit_ , Casey. What have you done?"

A hoarse voice ripped through the brief moment of silence, _"You."_

Michelangelo and Raphael jumped back as Casey was tackled to the floor by Donatello. One of Casey's brown boots flew off his foot. Splinter cried out for him to stop. Donatello ignored him as he straddled the man and pulled back his left fist, while holding his shirt bunched in his wrapped right. Donatello punched him quickly in the mouth; once; twice. Casey brought up his hands defensively, but the ferocity of his blows knocked his arms away.

Michelangelo fell on Donatello's shell. He grabbed Donnie underneath his arms and around his chest and heaved him off Casey. They stumbled back and fell in front of Raphael and Splinter. The shocked man sat up, wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of one hand and scowled.

"What the  _fuck!"_  he hollered; spitting blood.

Donatello scrambled madly and rolled off Michelangelo, inadvertently popping him in the snout with his elbow.

Mikey cried out and rolled to one side as stars danced in front of his watering eyes. He hustled across the floor rising up from his hands and knees and lunged again at Casey with a snarl. Mikey gave a stuffed-up shout for him to stop as Splinter crouched to attend to his bleeding nose.

Casey crabbed backwards and jumped to his feet and barely hopped to one side before Donatello collided with him. Donatello wasted not a second and swung, holding nothing back, his fists flew at Casey's face. He dodged the first two swings only to receive a round house kick in the stomach. With a gasp of pain; he stumbled back into the kitchen; sputtering for breath.

Donnie followed swiftly; jabbing fast with his left hand; keeping his injured right close to his chest; bringing his right foot around and knocking Casey against his temple. His head snapped sharply to the right. He toppled into the back of a kitchen chair. The legs shrieked against the linoleum as it slid from the impact. He shook his head as stars danced in front of his vision. His elbow painfully hooked over the backrest; it was the only thing keeping him upright.

Donatello came in swinging again, a blur of green fists and dark eyes.

Casey moved his head to avoid the strikes. He brought his arm up to block; taking the painful blows against his forearm. His fingers on one hand wrestled for a hold and grabbed the chair and swung it around at Donatello's face. Too slow. He ducked, avoiding the impact. Donatello bunched his thighs and jumped straight up and knocked the chair from Casey's grasp with a spin kick.

Casey screamed as the chair flew from his hands and slammed into the refridgerator, " _Dammit!_  What is your problem,  _Purple!?"_

Voices concerned and angry filled the air, all shouting at once, "Donnie - !" "Knock it off!" "Stop! Stop this at once!" "There's no time for this!" "Donatello!"

Casey brought up his fist as he realized that Purple was only just getting started. His fist shot out and Donatello blocked, knocking it to the side easily. Casey shifted his feet, bouncing on his toes. He feinted one way with his right and then came at him again with a straight jab from his left fist.

It connected.

Unfortunately catching Donatello directly in his throat. He gasped as pain flashed white and blinding through his throat and head; down into his chest. He careened backwards, stumbling and choking. Waves of electric, throbbing agony pulsed through him. But even as he struggled for breath, his leg shot around in a side kick, forcing the advancing opponent to leap back in retreat. The pain was cast aside, as air once more found its way into his lungs, replaced by a raging thought that repeated itself over and over in his mind.

_He let them take her! My April! Oh god! He let them take her!_

Casey shuffled quickly back, as Donatello recovered, his side slamming against the table. He spun; running; lumbering around the table, putting some distance between him and the infuriated mutant.

"What the  _fuck_  is your problem,  _Purple_?!" Casey shouted at him from around the table.

Donatello's brown eyes were flat and blank with cold fury. Unlike Raphael, whose volcanic rage darkened his features like an oncoming storm and Leonardo's electric fury that made his eyes flash like blue lightning; Donatello's anger ran cold; it was unyielding, frigid and terrible to witness. Inhuman.

"Donnie!" Raphael ran up to him but stopped abruptly at the glare Donatello shot him; freezing him in his tracks.

_Okay, Donnie is pissed._

Leonardo appeared next to where Michelangelo climbed to stand on wobbling legs; a trickle of blood seeped from his nose.

"'m okay," he said to Leo.

Splinter stood by speechless and flustered. This was completely out of control. The lair was in chaos. Mikey made to go towards Donatello when Leo grabbed Michelangelo's elbow, with a sharp shake of his head, stopping him from getting too close.

None of them had ever seen Donatello lose his temper to this extent before. There was the occasional blow up when something didn't go right in the lab, or when he'd research something for a long time only to come up with nothing and once in a while when Michelangelo's pranks went too far. But that was usually something that would flare up and disappear just as quickly. Like Michelangelo, Donatello was not one to hold onto his anger. Slow to get upset, but quick to forgive and move on. This was so unlike him, it left his brothers and father standing around like stunned bystanders witnessing a catastrophe.

Donatello stalked a stuttering and cursing Casey like a madman stalking a victim in a horror movie as the man scrambled around the table. Fury and menace and contempt poured off him and filled the small space between them. The air snapping around them from the electric tension. Donatello pointed at him.

" _You_ ," he said hoarsely and his strained, gravel-filled voice was nearly as terrible as the cold hatred painted clear on his face,  _"Your fault."_  He kicked a chair out of his way and it skittered to the floor on its side.

"Look, I know," Casey said breathlessly as he backed up, retreating backwards into the living room space. His chin was covered in crimson. He turned his head and spit a round gory splat onto the floor, "I fucked up, okay? But it's gonna be okay. We're gonna go get her."

The reasonable tone in his voice set Donatello's teeth on edge. He shook his head in disgust. This was far from okay. This was anything BUT okay. All the frustration; every ounce of hatred he'd stored up against this man in the last few years bubbled up and overflowed inside of him from some deep black cauldron of spite.

It was bad enough that he'd had to compete against this caveman for April's attention and affection, but now this fool caused her to be captured. A chilling thought slammed into him, as he stood there,  _right now_  she was probably being  _tortured_. A shudder went through him. All reasonable thought fled from him.

A ferocious scream broke from him as he launched himself over the top of the table and tackled Casey a second time. Their bodies flew past Raphael as he lurched to the side out of their path. The other boot flew off Casey's foot as his upper back struck the floor. The top of his head slammed into the back of their couch. The force of the impact slid the sofa forward.

Again, Donatello straddled Casey, pinning him to the floor; this time pounding his face with both fists, ignoring the throbbing pain coming from his right hand and wrist. The bandages soon became spattered in red drops and pieces of it flew in ripped shreds as he swung his fist down again and again. Casey tried to block the blows, but Donatello's frenzied attack did not abate. Blood and foam flew from Casey's mouth and face as he groaned and his body bucked with each impact of Donatello's fists.

Donatello was screaming at him as he pummeled the man; screaming incomprehensible things; broken words and curses; his hoarse voice nearly gone. All around him he dimly realized his father and brothers were shouting and screaming at him. He couldn't focus on the words they were saying. Everything was a numbing blur of rushing blood in his ears and pounding fury in his head.

He only knew one thing: someone bad had the sweet, precious, only woman in all the world that he loved with all his being; someone bad was going to  _hurt her_  in awful, terrible ways and the stupid, foolish, sorry-excuse-for-a-man responsible for this was in his grasp. He would make him pay for his stupidity.

He paused for a moment to grab Casey by the front of his dirty white t-shirt. He shook him and slammed his head back against the floor. He pulled the man's battered face an inch from his.

He ground out, as the last threads of his frayed voice broke into nothing more than a snarling whisper,  _"If they touch her, you are_ _ **dead**_ _. I will take you somewhere where I can pull you apart piece by piece and no one, no one, will ever find the remains."_

Leonardo felt Splinter's claw push him forward. One quick exchange of looks with his father and Leonardo came up behind Donatello. He quickly slid his hands under his armpits and up and behind his neck, locking his fingers. The muscles in his arms bunched as he pulled a still fighting, struggling Donatello up and back, off the nearly unconscious, moaning man. Donatello kicked Casey in the ribs as he was dragged away.

Raphael raced to Casey's side and ordered Mikey to get over there to help. Master Splinter was there next to them suddenly, with a wet rag and the first aid kit. Donatello writhed and fought but Leonardo held him fast. All the hard training that Leonardo had put himself through the past two years had chiseled an impressive physique full of wiry, lithe strength.

Leonardo's firm voice was in his ear as he struggled to get free from Leonardo's hold, " _Enough_! Donnie,  _Donnie_! That's enough. That's enough. You're wasting  _time_." Still he bucked and fought against Leo, but his brother held him securely. " _Think_ , Donnie. Think. We won't find her if you knock him out."

At that, Leonardo felt Donatello's body go heavy and limp in his arms. All the fight was gone in an instant. After a moment, Leonardo felt his head bob in acceptance. Slowly, breathing heavy from exertion, Leonardo relaxed his hold and Donatello slid free.

Donatello stumbled forward, leaning his hands on top of his knees as he caught his breath and calmed down. He felt shaky and sick as exhaustion washed through him. Desperate fear now filled the hollow space rage carved out within him. Shaking, he looked up and made eye contact with Leonardo. Leo reached over and patted him gently on the shoulder; giving it a little reassuring shake.

The look he gave his younger brother said so much; that he understood, that he was sorry, and that he was also a little impressed as well.

Then his eyes turned hard and serious. "We'll find her. We'll save her. I promise."

Nothing in the world felt better than a promise made by Leonardo. The solidity of it; the security of it; the soothing comfort it brought; like a warm blanket and a cup of soup when you were sick. When Leo said something like that you knew everything was going to be okay, that somehow, things would be okay, because he said they would be. He promised.

And Leonardo's promises were gold.

Donatello closed his eyes, allowing himself to be assuaged by his brother's words. As he panted, he nodded his gratitude for everything at his older brother. He knew then with certainty that Leo had forgiven him. He didn't really understand why, but he was greatly relieved. Reaching up with a trembling hand, he laid it on top of Leonardo's, still resting on his shoulder. He felt Leonardo squeeze his shoulder. They stayed that way for a moment; eyes locked; brown and blue; fearful, hopeful, understanding and determined.

_And I'll help you find Karai, Leo, I swear I won't rest 'til we do._

"What is  _with_  tonight?" Mikey asked the room in general as he propped a trembling and dazed Casey up to sitting with one arm draped around his shoulder. "Two normally calm, collected, completely sane brothers goin' nuts in the same night?"

He looked at Splinter as he dabbed a bit of cotton dripping with antiseptic against one cut. He then began to wrap Casey's wound with a bandage.

Mikey swallowed as he glanced around, "Who's gonna be next?"

"Shut it, Mikey," Raphael growled.

Michelangelo raised his eyebrows as if to say,  _now we know._


	11. Karma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: Things are about to get dark.

_'Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect.' –_ Margaret Mitchell

 _'Is Fate getting what you deserve? Or deserving what you get?' –_ Jodi Picoult, _Vanishing Acts_

_\-----------------------------------------------------------_

Doctor Tsuneo slumped into the brown leather chair in his office. He closed his eyes and reaching over the top of his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose. His head pounded.

Thirty-three cases of avian flu and more cropping up throughout the ranks of the clan. It was bad enough that his public practice was overwhelmed with citizens coming in for treatment, those both afflicted and only paranoid that they were, but now the virus was running rampant through the ranks of the Foot Clan. With Oroku Saki out recovering in the country, it was Doctor Tsuneo's sole responsibility to stay on top of the men and women's health care and treatments.

His team of doctors and nurses that he'd recruited were working around the clock under his direct orders. He glanced across the sparsely decorated office with a sigh, not really seeing the room. Dim light filtered from between drawn blinds. A neglected bamboo plant stood withering in one corner.

He tapped his fingers against the arm rest as he sat; thinking of the virus, thinking about the young soldier he treated earlier in the night whose fever had spiked to a frightening height, only to lose him this morning; thinking of how many double shifts his people could pull before collapsing, thinking he was way too old to be working this many hours and should instead be spending his golden years out on a fishing boat off the coast of Thailand. Then his mind wandered back to Saki and the Huber sisters.

Oh, yes. He remembered now what he'd meant to do a day ago. There just hadn't been any time.

He opened his laptop with a scowl. Internally he batted away a fleeting feeling of paranoia. Really he shouldn't worry about things like this. He had enough on his plate to occupy every waking moment. Didn't Saki have people to do this type of research? He was sure it was covered. Most likely checked and double checked. Really, he was being paranoid from lack of sleep. But still.

Doctor Tsuneo was a loyal and skilled man with excellent instincts and known for being extremely thorough. That in part, was what had Saki recruit him as his personal physician and head of the Foot's health care so many years ago.

As a doctor he understood that sometimes the smallest detail that went overlooked or ignored resulted in devastating aftereffects. A small telltale sign of something malignant hidden beneath a benign looking set of circumstances that went overlooked or dismissed as nothing and could fester, unchecked, leading eventually to a tragic end that could have been prevented with better care. Sometimes, Doctor Tsuneo went with a natural gut instinct that pushed him to look closer; deeper. Just as now. His instinct troubled him.

Something about Lena Huber bothered him. Nagging at the back of his mind enough to constantly remind him to look into this whenever he had a quiet moment to himself. Saki was in his care and he was thorough when it came to his patients.

He tapped a few keys and stared at the screen. He huffed in frustration. Well, of course, it wouldn't be as simple as he hoped it would be to do a background search on a woman he knew very little about. He started with the sister that Saki trusted, Annabelle, and worked from there. He just had to be sure that Lena was not any type of security risk.

He was sure it was fine. Positive, really. But still. The unease nagged him, the natural urge to pick at the underlying disturbance kept him at his lap top in his office instead of on the train heading for his home.

* * *

Casey looked around in a daze as the turtles readied to leave. His shirt was torn and hung at an odd angle down the front of his chest where Donatello had grabbed and twisted it. His face was a bruised and battered mess. Despite Splinter's care and bandages, the white wrappings were turning a deep brownish red color as blood seeped through.

He felt with his tongue to find two molars loose on the left bottom side of his mouth. A long dribble of bloody spit hung from his swollen bottom lip; he wiped it away angrily. His forearms were covered in dark bruises. One eye was purple and swollen shut. The other had a thick piece of gauze taped just above it spanning the corner of his eye to his temple. But he could see out of that one fine.

He rolled first one shoulder back, then the other; feeling stiff and sore. His bones popped as he rolled his neck to one side and around the back. He rubbed the side of his neck with one hand.

"Got my ass handed to me," he mumbled. Then chuckled, shaking his head, "Fuckin' Purple." He huffed and raised his eyebrows.  _Didn't think the guy had it in him,_ he thought with grudging respect. He had to admit, once riled up, the guy had heart.

Leonardo crouched in front of him. "Where do they have April?"

Casey nodded. "I-I'll take you," he managed between swollen lips.

"And Karai," Mikey said, coming up from behind them. Leonardo spun to face his little brother, nearly jumping out of his shell. He stood up and rounded on his little brother, frowning in confusion.

"What?" Raph barked out the question from the doorway leading out of the lair, in his hands, he twirled his sais and stuck them into his belt.

Michelangelo shrugged as he handed Casey's boots down to him. "That woman that Casey ratted out. I'm pretty sure that was Karai. Casey said he spotted a blonde. Remember, we saw her in a blonde wig? That ninja that grabbed her from the limo, he wasn't Foot."

Donatello's eyes widened with amazed pride. He spun his bo and slid it into the holder on his shell. He quickly stepped past a still grumbling Casey, pulling on his boots on the floor and he rubbed the top of Michelangelo's head enthusiastically for putting the pieces together. Mikey ducked his head; smiling, then batted Donatello's hand away.

"Don't act so surprised. I'm not just a pretty face, you know."

Leonardo felt his stomach sink to his feet. The woman that Venom had captured . . . was Karai? And they wanted Casey to help them . . . help them . . . They were going to . . .

His eyes grew round and he felt violently ill. Burning bile rose up in the back of his throat.  _They had to go, right **now**._  He twisted around and grabbed Casey by the front of his tattered, blood spattered t-shirt; hauling him to his feet.

"Geez. Take it easy," Casey complained and shrugged free from Leonardo. Leo pushed him roughly towards the exit.

Leo ground out, "Move it. Move it  _now_."

Splinter stepped in front of Leonardo's path as Casey moved onward, only pausing a step later, turning back, confused. He frowned then exchanged a long look with Raphael who stood with his arms crossed, scowling. Casey shifted his feet nervously, sensing a strange strained tension fill the lair. Michelangelo and Donatello stood side by side on the stairs leading up to the exit; they watched, holding their collective breath. It felt like the room was holding its breath along with them.

Splinter's amber eyes bore into Leonardo's steely blue. Leo moved to take a step forward. Master Splinter held up a claw, pressing it against the material of his son's shirt, making him stop.

"You will go and rescue April from this clan." He took a breath before going on. "But. Nothing more. Is that understood?"

Leonardo's burning eyes bounced back and forth between his father's amber orbs; breathing heavy and shallow, fighting back the panic and the nauseous dread filling him. Part of him wanted to simply bow and agree to his father's command; to stay in his good graces and remain forever in his father's mind a source of pride and esteem. Another part of his mind wanted to strike him and scream in his face and accuse him of forever withholding happiness from him.

But Leonardo didn't know if happiness awaited him. He didn't know what Karai felt and couldn't risk ruining his strained relationship any further with his father over something he wasn't even sure about.

Everything was so confused. He clenched his jaw, continuing to keep his silence; choosing that over saying something he'd regret and couldn't retract. Through all his confusion, one thing  _was_  clear, however. Perfectly clear. There was no way in  _hell_  that he was going to leave Karai behind to be raped and murdered. Even if she had him tortured, even if she tortured him herself like she did in his nightmares, there was no honor in that death. She was a warrior. If she were to perish, she deserved an honorable death.

No, he wouldn't stand for it. Not when he knew where they had her, not when he could do something to stop it.

Splinter twitched his whiskers as he waited for a reply from his son. "Do not disappoint me in this, my son. You will not come to the aid of our enemy."

He blinked and everything snapped into place. He didn't have time for this  _bullshit_. He looked over his Sensei's shoulder.

"Get moving," Leo barked and they all started and hurried towards the door.

"You heard 'em," Raphael said then turned and grabbed Leonardo's gear from the rack near the door and tossed it to him. "There ya go, chief."

He caught the sheathed swords and belts in his hands and immediately strapped them on over his shirt and across his waist. He glanced at his father then away. "I have to go."

He put his claw on Leonardo's chest; stopping him again.

Leo glared down at his father's furry hand and raised his glassy eyes up to meet his father's once more. He felt the edges of his restraint sliding through his grasp. The animal that was his rage stalked in the shadowy corners of his tumultuous mind. A tremor went through him. He felt the tidal pull of right and wrong and he knew beyond all else, that his father was  _wrong_. The moment he told him to leave Karai behind at the mercy of those monsters, he made his decision. He swore he wouldn't fight with his father over Karai again.

But that didn't mean he'd obey him in regards to this, either.

"We do not risk our lives or our family's lives for the enemy. Is that clear?" Master Splinter tapped one claw on his chest, emphasizing the last question.

His voice came out level and flat, even as a storm raged within him. He spoke into his father's eyes, grinding out each word, "Hai, Sensei. Not for the . . .  _enemy_."

With that he moved swiftly out of his father's reach; jogging to catch up with his friend and brothers on their way to rescue Donatello's love and save his own whether she loved him back or never did, whether Splinter approved or never would.

* * *

The sky was overcast, gray and oppressive outside Saki's window. He lay, propped up on a relatively comfortable bed in a small room facing the north, his robe open, a book held in his hands. The tube of the i.v. snaked over his right forearm and up into the bag supplying him with fluids and painkillers. If he were to get up and stand by the window, there was a bit of a view of the mountain peaks just above the tree line.

The house was quiet and still, much like the world outside his window. No breeze blew to billow out the gauzy curtains covering the open windows. No birds sang.

His eyes settled on the book in his hands and with a frustrated sigh, he set it aside. The last few pages had been lost to him as his thoughts wandered about the weather, about the unending pain plaguing his chest and side from the bullet wounds. He thought about his daughter and if she was safe enough in New York; thinking perhaps he should have sent more guards with her; thinking he would send orders to ship several more to her when he met with Doctor Tsuneo tomorrow morning for his check-up.

His mind wandered as his thought shifted to the ongoing, escalating battles that continued to crop up between his clan and this new annoyance, Venom. Rivals were not a new problem. But Venom was a fresh source of persistent irritation for him. He'd already lost soldiers to their well-planned surprise attacks. And he'd nearly lost his life at the club, despite being heavily guarded. More disturbing was the trend of his faithful becoming turn-coats and sabotaging their operations from within.

_Where was the source of this discontent and betrayal?_

He couldn't figure it out. And that disturbed and enraged him.

In the past he had quickly and thoroughly dispatched any threat with ease. His soldiers were ever loyal and believed in their cause and he'd made sure they benefited and profited from their operations. But now, it was as if things were falling apart around him. Just as his body was no longer strong and solid and reliable.

He ran a hand over the bandages covering his chest and grimaced. He'd been hurt before and much worse than this. These wounds seemed to be taking too long to heal. Threat of infection constantly worried Doctor Tsuneo who took every opportunity to remind him that he was not as young as he once was. He glanced down at his weakened body and felt the familiar roll of disgust go through him.

_I'm getting old._

Just then the door opened and the younger woman, Lena, stepped through with fresh linens stacked in her arms. Saki watched her as she moved around the room. She wore a button-up, blue-checked shirt, tied at her stomach and a pair of cropped white pants. Her feet were bare as she pattered around the room, opening the curtains and adjusting the flowers sitting in a vase on the desk near his bed. She moved back to where she'd set the blankets down at his feet. She stopped and glanced at him.

"Feeling any better?"

She moved closer; sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at him. Her face was fresh and pretty without any make-up adorning it. She was similar in age to him, perhaps a few years older, but attractive, nonetheless. Her hair was tied back, revealing a long neck. Her smile sent a wave of warmth through him.

 _But I'm not that old,_ he thought.

"Thank you. I am," he replied.

"Let me take a look at this."

She looked to the i.v. bag; reached over and adjusted it. Saki shifted, his eyes taking in the curve of her body as she leaned over him. He averted his eyes.

It had been a long time since he was intimate with a woman. An even longer time since he was involved seriously with anyone. A very long time. His work didn't exactly allow down time to devote to building relationships with women. His violent secret life afforded him little to no chance at real love. And when the need and the loneliness became too great; there were always women available and eager to spend a night with the man who was the well-known, wealthy businessman and philanthropist. But those nights were kept to a minimum. Besides, they only left him feeling empty.

He missed his wife and sometimes when the darkness within him threatened to overwhelm, he still found himself yearning for Tang Shen; though it was rare when he thought of her. That had been a lifetime ago, it seemed. So now, he tended to avoid women as much as possible. Because it reminded him of the women he'd lost. The women he missed so much.

The silence stretched out and he found himself wishing Lena would leave him to his thoughts in peace. She sat back down, closer to him this time. Her perfume was clean with musky undertones. He shifted into his pillow a bit more.

"Is your daughter coming to visit any time?"

Saki glanced at her. "No. She is away."

"That's a shame. She should be here with you." She paused. "I have a daughter, you know." Her voice became distant and her eyes grew glassy with emotion. "She and I are very close. Tragedy will do that sometimes. Bring family together. Especially if it's a close-nit one to begin with."

Her eyes met his once more as she went on, "It really is a shame she isn't here with you. Family is important to keep close to in times like these. When we're going through hard times. Like when we're hurt, or frightened or suffering."

Saki said nothing to her, thinking Karai was better off as far away from him as possible under the current circumstances. But Lena wouldn't know anything about the threats facing them. To her, Karai was the spoiled only-child of a wealthy widower. Ungrateful and uncaring to a father who was attacked in what appeared to be a random shooting.

Lena wasn't too far from the truth if he really thought about it. Karai wasn't spoiled, no. But he doubted she held any small amount of love for him, despite what he'd sacrificed for her future. Something close to regret suddenly filled him and he brushed it away, angry with himself.

He started as he felt Lena's hand cover his. It was soft and warm. Comforting. As if she sensed his fleeting sadness. His dark eyes went from her hand to her face.

"Well, I'm here for you," her voice took on a husky tone. She slid her fingers between his and caressed his hand from his knuckles to his wrist. "If you want some . . . company?"

Her blue eyes stared into his with an intensity that shocked him and he felt his injured body suddenly very much wanting her 'company'. The look he gave her must have said it all, for she released his hand and began to unbutton her top. He watched her movements with hooded eyes as she slid her bare shoulders free and then dropped her shirt to the floor. She undid her hair and the golden tresses fell over her shoulders onto the tops of her full breasts. She stood and slipped out of her pants, then climbed into the bed.

His need for her grew painful. It had been too long since he'd felt a woman's soft curves and gentle touch against his flesh. Saki found himself aching for her.

She pulled back the blankets and carefully, being mindful of his injured body, slid the waist band of his pants down. She glanced up at him and there was that smile again. Full of warmth and desire and . . . something he couldn't place. She laid down on top of him, and his breath hitched with pleasure and some pain. She propped the top of her body up with her elbow, so as not to put pressure on his wounded chest, knowing that he was not entirely comfortable but wasn't complaining so she stayed how she was. Resting a hand above his heart, she felt the staccato beat of it.

Lena inched her mouth towards his, reaching slowly behind his pillow, sliding her hand along the sheets behind his head. Their lips met and Saki felt a burning passion ride through him. Too long since he felt this. Much too long.

A sharp pinch in the side of his neck stole his focus away from the surge of desire and pleasure. Something cold then hot seeped through him and he gasped.

Lena sat up, straddling him, smiling down at him in triumph. In one raised hand she held up an empty syringe. She shook it side to side as he frowned in baffled horror. The moment of sweet desire evaporated instantly into the sick churning throes of a nightmare.

His fist shot out at her even as pain lanced through his chest, blinding him and startling him. He fell back onto the pillow, panting, as Lena leapt to her feet with all the grace of a lithe cat. She stalked around the bed as Saki felt his chest tighten and breathing became an effort.

"Ah ah. Don't overexert yourself. We haven't exactly been giving you all the meds the kindly doctor assigned. And you're going to want to be awake for what's coming next."

He blinked. So that's why it was taking so much longer for him to heal. And why he'd been in so much lingering pain. It wasn't his age working against him. It was this vile witch! Into the room, the older woman, Annabelle, strode in with a box held in her arms. She grimaced and looked away from her sister.

"Lena, really, do you have to be naked right now."

She set the box down and without a word or even a glance at Saki, began to pull equipment out from it and set it aside. A lap top computer, a camera, a tripod.

Lena grabbed one post at the foot of the bed and swung around. "Yes. Yes. I do," she said playfully.

 _"G…G…Guard!"_ Saki strained to yell, but it came out only as a feeble whisper. Drops of sweat broke out across his forehead as he struggled to move and found he couldn't.

"Oh, don't bother," Annabelle said with a quick glance at him. "He's dead."

Saki's eyes widened. It wasn't true. It couldn't be. He was an elite. One of his most skilled. They couldn't have taken him out. This can't be happening.

Annabelle looked at his shocked expression and placed her hands on her wide hips. She shook her head with an expression of a disappointed school teacher. "Don't look so surprised, my dear. A little poison in the tea and almond cookies," she snapped her fingers, "will take anyone out. No matter how well-trained or strong or noble . . ."

Lena added, "Or pathetic or feeble."

His body stiffened and every muscle cramped, keeping him pinned to the bed, still unable to move. Pain speared through him with each breath he took. From between gritted teeth he managed, _"Wh…Who?"_

"All will be explained in a moment," Annabelle said as she pulled a folding table out from under the foot of the bed with a soft grunt and extended the legs then proceeded to set the lap top upon it.

 _"Why?"_ he groaned.

Annabelle and Lena exchanged glances. "Just call it Karma, for now."

* * *

April huffed and shifted herself to sitting on the lumpy mattress. Her back ached from being slammed into the wall, and she was sure it sported a large bruise. But there was no time to feel sorry for herself. She shook her head; jerking it up and side to side, knocking the mussed hair from her face so she could see clearly. More people entered the room behind the back of the ninja standing watch over them. The blonde woman who had attacked Karai stepped inside the room, followed by the man who kicked in April's apartment door and another soldier who stayed by the door.

The blonde moved next to the soldier looming over them. She was wearing a flowing skirt covered in a blue pattern of swirling flowers and a white three-quarter length sleeve shirt. The points of her collar reminded April of an animal's jagged teeth. She smirked at Karai then glanced at the woman next to her. She blinked her blue eyes and frowned. She pointed at April.

"Who is this?" she asked in a voice tinged with a slight German accent.

"One of our grunts got out of hand. That's part of the dog's punishment, Sophia."

The soldier with his arms crossed spoke up. "They know each other. I heard them talking. They were arguing when I came in to silence them."

April and Karai exchanged a quick glance.

Sophia nodded. She pressed her lips together as if deciding on something. "Ah. She can stay, then. Why not. Misery enjoys company does it not? Besides, it's fitting after all. He was forced to have spectators at different times." She bent over in front of Karai to look her in the face. She reached out and brushed her bangs across her forehead with one fingertip.

"Oh, my dear. I almost feel sorry for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This next chapter coming up features some disturbing and dark material. If sensitive, feel free to skip around to avoid it. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. If interested, grab a comfy chair and hold on to your butts!
> 
> Thank you for your support in reviewing! xo


	12. Evil Illuminated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets pretty heavy with some darker material. But I felt it was essential to the story as I don't do gratuitous anything just for the sake of doing it. Everything moves the story forward, moves the characters forward in development whether for better or worse. I hope you'll agree with that.

_"The past is never where you think you left it."_  - Katherine Anne Porter

 _"The past is never dead. It's not even past."_  -William Faulkner,  _Requiem for a Nun_

* * *

 

Leonardo felt his heart racing as he rode in the back of Casey's pick-up, beneath a heavy burlap tarp. It was well past midnight, but they had to drive through some of the more populated areas of the city before they made it out to the industrial park where April and Karai was taken. There was just enough room to sit up, hunched over, but upright. The scratchy fabric rubbed the top and back of his head. Michelangelo sat across from them; chewing gum and snapping the bubbles between his front teeth. The small sharp sounds were putting Leo more and more on edge. Raphael was up front with Casey.

Next to him, sitting close enough that one arm pressed against his was Donatello. His brother constantly fidgeted with nervous energy; shifting on his bottom; cracking his knuckles. Every few seconds he cleared his throat. The painful sound sent new waves of remorse and guilt through Leonardo. He turned his head to Donatello.

He spoke in a low voice, "Don, I really am sorry for . . ."

Donatello's dark eyes were two shining pools in the shadows next to him. Leonardo could see him shaking his head, dismissing any further apologizing.

"Deserved it," he croaked.

Leonardo frowned and dropped his chin. "No you didn't, Don. You were trying to protect me. I . . . I want you to know, I understand. And I'm going to make it up to you."

Donatello shook his head again. "April, focus."

Leonardo knew what he meant.  _Focus on rescuing April._  He nodded.

He didn't want to imagine what Donatello would do to Casey if anything had befallen their friend. Not to mention that Raphael and Michelangelo would want a piece as well. S _he's okay._   _She has to be._  

He couldn't imagine something so horrible happening to the girl who was so much like a sister that that was exactly how he thought of her. How he loved her. His sister. He bit back the rising rage again. This was all Casey's fault for getting involved with these people. Every time that thought hit him he had to fold back the rage that rose up within him.

He'd tried to warn him. But Casey didn't listen. He'd said that they were all getting older and needed to walk their own paths. That was well and fine as long as they didn't drag innocent friends along for the trip.

Donatello put a hand on his arm, snapping him from his thoughts, rescuing him from the building rage.

"A-And Karai," he added hastily in his hoarse, whispering voice.

Leonardo stared at the space between his legs to the floor of the bed of the truck as it jumped and bounced over a rough patch of asphalt and several pot holes. His brother knew his intentions, then. He'd gone ahead and made it seem as if he were obeying Master Splinter when he had no intention of following through. Of course, he wasn't fooling anyone. He'd never been good at lying.

If she was there, if she needed any help, he'd be there for her. He'd deal with the fall-out later, if there even was any. If Karai didn't have feelings for him any longer . . . None of that mattered anyway. It didn't.

"Save your voice, now, Don," he replied softly.

Donatello sat back and continued to fidget and crack his knuckles; lost in his fear and worry for April's safety. Mikey had mercifully stopped snapping his gum and Leo dimly wondered if he's swallowed it or stuck it on the truck bed somewhere.

Usually right before going into a battle, Leonardo found his mind to be ready and calm. Sometimes, if he had a few moments, he'd even manage to meditate a little to balance his spirit and energies before they'd engage in fighting. But right now, every time he closed his eyes to steady himself, he saw her; like an image from a nightmare; laying battered and naked in a pool of crimson; or fighting off several men only to be overpowered, she'd fall back . . . and then they'd viciously descend on her like a pack of wolves, their grinning foul mouths foaming, their eyes sparking with blank lust as they tear at her clothes . . . He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth as he shoved the horrible images away.

No.  _No_. He wouldn't allow that to happen. Not to her. Never to her. A tremor shook him. A mix of rage and terror filled him like nothing he'd ever felt before.

"You okay, Leo?" Mikey asked him as he scooted close. So close he felt Mikey's breath on his face when he spoke. It smelled fruity and oddly pink like the candy he'd been chomping. His eyes were large, bright pools in the dim light. Donnie leaned forward and looked from Mikey to Leonardo.

Now Leonardo was sandwiched tightly between Donatello and his little brother. He understood they were both nervous for both the upcoming fight and for their friend's safety, but still. This was a bit much. He opened his mouth to ask for a little breathing room when Leonardo looked into his young sibling's round eyes staring back at him; questioningly.

Mikey's eyes darted to Leo's hands where they were perched on top of his bent knees then shot back to meet his eyes; worry etched clearly in them. Leo looked and to his surprise, saw his hands were shaking, hard. He pulled his fingers into fists, then slowly covered one hand with the other and pulled them towards his stomach.

Michelangelo exchanged a glance with Donatello.

He swallowed then said, "She's gonna be fine, bro. She's a ninja, and not only that, she's a badass fighter. Heck, we may need to save Venom from  _her_. Maybe April and her will team up and kick some ninja ass before we even get there, huh?" He giggled nervously at the absurd notion.

Donatello gave him a weak grin and shook his head as if to say,  _not gonna happen, but I wish._  

Leo tried to smile at his brother's attempt to reassure him, but he could only manage a slight twitch of his lips; making him look more as if he were grimacing than smiling his thanks. Donatello put his hand on Leonardo's knee and patted it. Sometimes it was hard having brothers who always seem to know what he was thinking or feeling despite his attempts to hide it from them; sometimes it was nice.

What he needed most right now more than comforting, empty words or compassion, was to focus. He needed his brothers' minds on the task at hand. There was a battle coming up and he didn't want any of them distracted by anything. They could get hurt or worse if they weren't focused and prepared. They needed a plan.

Pushing away his fright at Karai's possible situation and April's peril, he trained his mind on what they'd do when they arrived and stormed the place. He wouldn't ask them to risk anything for Karai. He would handle that on his own. He swore he'd never put them in harm's way for her and he meant to keep that oath.

* * *

Karai glared at the blonde woman leaning in front of her; smirking. She worked her tongue then spat in her heart-shaped face.

Sophia reared back making a disgusted noise as the ninja moved in swiftly; punching Karai ruthlessly across the jaw, knocking her head back; slamming it into the wall behind them. The chain behind her rattled as her body slumped to the right.

April gasped and covered her mouth. She wanted to help Karai, but fear glued her to her seat, that and she wasn't so foolish as to try and fight two men and a woman with her hands duct taped together. If she tried to attack, she knew she'd only get hurt for her efforts at this point.

"Stupid bitch," he said and pulled his arm back to hit her again as Karai clumsily tried to right herself, but Sophia stayed his arm. He stopped and straightened up, folding his arms across his chest once again. Standing back in his original pose.

The tall man who followed Sophia into the room chuckled darkly behind her. The sound was thick with anticipation. He put his hands on his hips. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a suit jacket over a gray button-up shirt. A gold chain hung around his neck. His hair was cropped short. A diamond stud earring caught the light from the fluorescent fixtures above in the ceiling and sparkled as he moved his head to one side; considering Karai with an empty, hungry look.

Sophia addressed the ninja, "Leave her. We want her conscious for what's to come."

"You'd think the Shredder's daughter would be smarter," he spoke with a mocking tone edging every word.

"Not really, no." She turned and took two steps away from them. She reached up to pull down the screen. "Help me, Carlisle."

The man with the short hair smirked at Karai, ignoring April, much to her relief, as he stepped past them and moved around the screen another few steps to the table, turning his back to them.

Karai's head swayed and blood dribbled from one corner of her mouth. She took a ragged breath in through her nose and blew it out slowly between her teeth. Roughly, she wiped her lip with one bare shoulder. Then glared up at the ninja standing over them.

April trembled next to her and felt the icy grip of fear sliding up and down her spine. Enemy or not, April couldn't help but feel frightened for not only her own safety but Karai's as well. This was bad. Very bad. Horror movie bad. She had no idea what they had in store for them and did not want to find out.

April's eyes moved around the room. In one corner, she noticed a pair of red shoes and a small handbag were tossed there. By the look of Karai's dress, April figured the items belonged to her. She could hear the sound of more men moving about just outside the door and more distantly the familiar sound of martial arts training. The sound sent a sharp pang of yearning for her friends through her.

Her attention came back to the two people in the room at the table. Carlisle and Sophia spoke in low murmurs then they took turns moving the laptop screen to get a better look. The keys made snapping noises as they tapped them.

April caught part of what Sophia said, her German accent was apparent but not so thick that April couldn't understand her, ". . . don't need to see this part."

Carlisle snapped his fingers and the ninja before them straightened to attention, then turned and left the room, the other one by the door left swiftly on his heels. Carlisle turned around and folded his arms across his broad chest; leaning against the edge of the table. He glanced at Karai who glared back at him sullenly, but then his flat eyes landed on April.

Slowly, he let his gaze rove over her until their eyes met. The same eyes that peered at her through the crack in her front door. Flat and lifeless. Empty of compassion or kindness. Eyes of a feral beast. A killer's eyes. He licked his lips and she shuddered.

Her fingers grabbed at her shirt, closing it up as best as she could manage with her wrists bound together. She tucked her legs in and made herself as small as possible next to Karai who continued to glare and sit motionless and defiantly silent.

Sophia clucked her tongue and clicked a few more buttons before turning to face them. "Hit the lights, will you?"

Carlisle strode back towards the door. He closed it gently and flicked the switch on the wall. The room fell into hazy darkness. Some yellow streetlamp light filtered in through a row of square windows that hung high in the wall bordering the ceiling behind them, above April and Karai's heads.

"A bit of entertainment for the ladies, first. To create anticipation." She smiled at him. It was a toothy smile without warmth or humor. The smile of a shark. "That's always the best part isn't it, Carlisle? The  _anticipation_."

April couldn't help but press closer to Karai next to her. She was shivering with terror and doing her best to remain as calm as Karai seemed to be. But her teeth started to rattle and she dug her nails into her palms to steady her nerves. It did little to quell the fright seeping through her.

Silently, she prayed that one of the guys somehow found out that she'd been kidnapped. Though how exactly would they know, she had no idea. It was late, and by now they might all be asleep. Being in her pajamas, she didn't even have her shell cell with her. So they'd have no way to track her location. She had to just hope that one of them was trying to reach her, call her,  _something_ , to make them come to her apartment to discover the wreck they left behind when they took her and then find some clue as to where they were being held.

But who would be calling her so late?

Donatello's sweet face suddenly appeared in her mind. Sometimes they chatted online at night; sometimes late into the night. When she couldn't sleep. He always seemed to be online, almost as if he were hoping she'd sign in. But of course, that had been before she dragged Casey between their friendship.

The awful thought that she'd never have the chance to put things right between her and Donnie if she died here struck home. Tears burned the back of her eyes. Her heart constricted with so much regret. Regret for allowing things to get so messed up when she got romantically involved with Casey. Regret for using the man as shield against the taboo of love she'd developed for Donatello. Regret for all the time she allowed to pass while running from her true feelings for him; hurting him time and again in the process.

And why?

Because of fear. Fear of what some voice in her head thought of the idea of them being together. Fear of a society that would never accept their relationship or love; something that existed more in her mind than without. It wasn't like she and Donnie would ever be walking around Central Park, exposed to the world's prejudices and judgments, anyway. What was she afraid of? Only her own heart. But now she knew what  _real_  fear was and if she wasn't so petrified, she'd have laughed out loud at how stupid she'd been all these years.

She hung her head and promised herself that if she ever made it out of this mess she'd make things right. She'd give him all the love that she'd denied him; and herself.

Karai felt April press up next to her as her dazed mind refocused. She blinked as her vision was still doubling a little from the blow given to her by that creep; slowly, it cleared. Her pupils dilated as the screen in front of them filled with light. She squinted and watched; wondering what this was about; fighting the ever growing knot of panic in her chest; fear lacing her spine with icy tendrils. With April shuddering next to her it took everything she had to remain still and appear unflustered. She really wished the girl would back off a little and give her some breathing room. The last thing she wanted was to give these people any indication of just how frightened she was. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Sophia and Carlisle stood to one side of the screen, their faces shadowed and ghoulish, as a grainy image flickered across the expanse, bringing the blank surface to life. It appeared as though the video was from a surveillance camera or some hidden camera in the corner of the ceiling, for the footage was stable and still; the quality was poor, but what was taking place was clear.

"What…?" April muttered, shaking her head slowly from side to side, baffled.

The scene played out before them; a young man, no more than a teenager, being forced inside a filthy windowless room; held by the arms by two men wearing light-colored, linen-like tunics and baggy pants. Garbage and bottles lay strewn about on a bare floor. In one corner of the room, near the top of the screen, a lumpy mattress lay, much like the one Karai and April found themselves on. The young teenager struggled, but remained caught between them. No sound came from the video but you could tell from their faces that the men were laughing and the boy was screaming.

They dragged him from the bottom of the screen towards the top of the screen where the mattress lay on the floor. They threw him down and crouched. They pulled the ragged pants he was wearing free. He kicked at them with dirty bare feet and tried to fight them; swinging his arms; only to receive a merciless pounding by both men. Two more men entered the room. They gathered around him; talking and chuckling; pointing at him as he scurried into the corner; bloodied, terror-struck and helpless. The terrible video continued as one after another they took turns assaulting him.

April turned away, a small moan escaped her lips; feeling her stomach roil and bile rise up in her throat. It was too real to be a fake. Though part of April's mind wanted to believe that it was a film and the people in it were actors. Like some sick twisted porno. Anything seemed better than the truth. She closed her eyes and pressed her knuckles into them as she shook and shook.

 _What the hell is this?_   _Why are they showing this horrible video to us?_

But while April struggled with questions, Karai was frozen to the spot with one devastating answer in her mind. The video was one she'd seen before. It was impossibly horrible. But the knowledge was something Karai already had come to live with. Staring at the screen, her face draining of all color, Karai choked out a name.

_"Marcus."_

"Very good, Karai. So, you're not as stupid as you look." The woman, named Sophia, crossed her arms and went on, "Marcus Brokker. You remember him, don't you Karai? It wasn't that long ago, after all. He was the boy your father sold into the sex-trade industry after you tried to murder him in his sleep."

She shook her head, almost playfully, and corrected herself, "Sex- _slave_  industry." That vicious smile devoid of warmth or humor spread across her face, almost splitting it into two. "If I look familiar to you, it is because I should."

She strode across the room and grabbed Karai by the back of her head. Her hair bunched in Sophia's fist. She brought her face to less than an inch of Karai's as she hissed from between gritted teeth.

_"Marcus is my little brother."_

Karai's eyes closed slowly as her stomach clenched and turned. Sophia released Karai and stepped back. The collar bit into her throat as her chin dropped to her chest.

April sat staring at her with wide, fear-filled eyes next to her. Questions raced through her jumbled mind.  _She knows this boy in the video? Shredder sold him into slavery? Oh god, this woman is the teen's sister. That's why they have Karai. Oh god. She's in trouble._ April swallowed. _I'm in trouble._ Again her stomach rolled. Her face shot from Karai to the couple keeping them prisoner and back again.

Carlisle stood up from where he leaned and strode over to them. He grabbed Karai by the top of her head, his fingers curling tightly; pulling her hair and bangs back painfully; forcing her to raise her head up to continue watching the screen.

"Look at him,  _slut_. You did this."

Karai quailed; breathing heavy through her gritted teeth. Her arms reached up and she tried to claw at his arm, but couldn't manage through the suit coat he wore. With his free hand he gripped both her wrists and squeezed them together until she finally whimpered in pain. He released them to fall limply in her lap. She tried; but couldn't get her legs right to try to kick him.

"It took a long time to track him down and bring him home," Sophia went on in a conversational tone, as the images on the screen changed to another room, another group of men wearing exotic robes, shedding those robes as quickly as they entered the room with the young man who was now strapped with black leather straps to a bed's posts.

"But that's not really important where you're concerned."

The video changed now, a close up of his face, the back of his head was gripped in someone's fist. The tears were clear as they spilled down his dirty face. A needle was pressed into the side of his neck the liquid draining into his vein.

"What's important for you Karai . . ." she continued.

Karai jumped as Carlisle slid his free hand down the front of her dress, ripping the other strap free from her shoulder as he shoved his rough hand under her bra. His fumbling hand cupped her breast and squeezed it hard. Karai shifted her shoulders side to side; trying to break free as she grunted through gritted teeth. Her fingers fumbled against his arm doing nothing to stop his groping.

Now the screen held the image of Marcus performing oral sex on a man while another stalked behind him, shedding his clothes. He held a tool of some kind in his hand and proceeded to use it on the young man despite the youth struggling beneath him. The man he was servicing sitting back and laughing at the show, as he took long slobbering drinks from a bottle in one fist.

"What's important for you Karai," her slithering voice repeated, "is how long Marcus was  _missing_. How many times he was  _used_. And what  _exactly_  did the men do to him. You see? Because you're going to get everything he got.  _Everything_."

Carlisle's hand squeezed; making Karai cry out in pain.

"Let her  _go_! Bastard! Leave her  _alone_!" April shouted, her voice shrill.

She sat up on her knees and struck his arm with her bound wrists; then again as hard as she could. Carlisle turned those flat eyes at her and she faltered; sinking back a little.

"Her . . . father is very . . ." she swallowed as Karai writhed and growled while Carlisle still moved his hand beneath her dress. He shook her by her hair and she groaned as the leather collar strangled her. An ugly smile spread across his face; one that didn't meet those empty, flat eyes as he continued groping Karai. ". . . very wealthy," April blurted out, trying not to sound as terrified as she felt. She turned her desperate gaze to the woman. "He…He'll pay…whatever you want. He's…"

Sophia burst out laughing; hands on her hips. "Oh, isn't that cute? Money? Ah ha, we're not doing this for  _money_. Please, we have more money than we know what to do with."

"We-We don't know where Shredder is either!" April shouted quickly; trying anything to bring an end to the assault on the woman next to her.

Sophia's laughter died down to chuckling as she wiped her eye. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"We're not doing this to locate her weakling, coward of a father. We have him already."

April sat back on her heels.

Karai gasped.  _No_.

Carlisle sneered in her face as he leaned down. "That's right, little slut." He whispered into her ear. "We've got your Daddy. The Foot Clan are coming over to our side, thanks to you. So no one's coming for you."

He opened his mouth and licked the side of Karai's face from her jawline to the corner of her eye. She snarled and thrashed madly in his grasp; tearing her hair and slamming her back against the bricks. The collar around her neck choked off her air and cut into her flesh and a wide river of blood began to trickle over her collarbone.

Sophia's face lost all semblance of mirth as it dropped into a look of utter seriousness. Shadows played across her features, making them more monstrous than human. Her blue eyes glittered like empty gemstones; flat and shallow in the dim light from the screen as she considered Karai and Carlisle then April.

"No. Not for money. Not for information. We are doing this for  _family_. Marcus is my brother. He deserves revenge for what was done to him by these sick, sorry excuses for human beings. Karai and her father deserve everything that's coming to them."

Carlisle, returning his gaze to April, released Karai and she fell back, snarling and panting through clenched teeth; feeling the air filling her lungs with relief. He moved around her and April scooted back as far as she could away from him, whimpering; her back pressed hard against the wall behind her. He knelt down onto the mattress with one knee; an evil grin on his face as he reached for her.

"Carlisle," Sophia said in a warning tone, but before she had the chance to say anything more Karai's right leg swung out as she shrieked in rage and clipped the man across his face. His head snapped to the side. He rolled from the mattress onto the floor, sputtering. He jumped up, red-faced and furious, a wide mark where Karai landed the blow. He swung his arm back and backhanded her.

April screamed.

Karai slammed back from the impact of the blow. The chain rattled as it scraped against the bricks behind her. The collar once again pulled against the front of her throat, gagging her, tearing deeper into her flesh. More blood spilled down the front of her body beneath the stretched out and torn fabric of her dress down to her chest. A large clot of blood bubbled through her lips as she hacked. She coughed and spat and turned her face to glare at Carlisle through a thick fringe of mussed black bangs; chest heaving.

"I'll  _kill_  you!" she snarled; blood and spit flew from her swollen mouth; her body quivered with rage. She rose up on her knees, her face snapped from Carlisle to Sophia.  _"Fuckers! I'll kill you both!"_

Sophia clucked with her tongue. "Ah, now now. We'll get to the rougher stuff. Once the more banal," she twirled her wrist around, "acts are done with. I believe Marcus's therapist reported it was around a hundred and sixty-six times that he was forced to engage in," she moved her fingers in quotation marks in the air, " _normal_  sex," she stared at Karai's battered furious face and continued in a calm conversational tone, eyes glittering darkly, "actually, that would be sodomy to be precise. And I intend to be as precise as possible."

She moved to offer a handkerchief to Carlisle. He took it; wiped his bottom lip where it split from Karai's kick and whispered something in Sophia's ear. "Now that is a brilliant idea."

She looked from April to Karai and back again, her eyes dancing with evil glee. All the while behind her the screen filled with more graphic images of Marcus being assaulted by different groups of men in an ever changing room or alleyway. The pair turned around and strode to the table, muttering to each other under their breath.

Karai, chest heaving as she panted, head swimming, sat back down on her heels. Twin tears of rage slid down her cheeks as she sat, shaken and furious and frightened. Dimly, she felt April clutch at her bare arm with her fingertips. Unable to stop, she flinched at the contact.

The large screen went blank. The afterglow burned into their eyes. The two captives blinked, attempting to regain their sight.

Taking advantage of the momentary darkness, April shifted closer and whispered to Karai, "A-Are you okay?"

Karai pressed her lips together and gave a brief nod. Another pair of tears escaped and Karai was furious with herself for each drop. Trembling, Karai told herself it was from rage, not fear. She would not show these people fear. She fought the trembling and tightened her fists until her knuckles whitened. She would not be afraid. She would not show weakness. But she felt both. They said they would make her suffer what Marcus had been put through; said they had her father captured and the last thing; something about Foot soldiers joining their clan because of her? What did that mean?

April was scared out of her mind but greatly impressed by Karai's dauntless courage. She couldn't even imagine trying to stay calm after what just happened to Karai. She'd be on the mattress blubbering, she knew. Karai was tough. But April knew she was probably as frightened as she was. She tried to gather strength from Karai's bravery, but she was so terribly afraid. More afraid than she ever felt in her life. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see Donatello again. If only she could, she'd bury herself in Donatello's protective arms and pour all of her love into him.

_Please, I want to remember what it feels like to be safe again._

Sophia's voice cut through the quiet, fear-filled moment. "It took some doing to finally get a hold of, but I think we have something here that will interest you much more than my poor brother's trials. Besides, you're going to experience everything he went through first hand, so while spoil all the surprises?"

She pressed a few keys and Carlisle chuckled and murmured something. "Ah, here we go. Perfect."

The screen flickered with static as April and Karai blinked and squinted from the sudden burst of light.

Sophia went on, still with her back to them, almost talking to herself. "There were a lot of rumors circulating about this both inside the Foot Clan and out. It was very difficult to find and then acquiring it took some doing. But it was worth it."

She turned slowly around. "So, Karai, you are known as someone who ruthlessly carries out her father's bidding. No matter  _what_  is asked of you. You're kunoichi skills are supposedly the stuff of urban legends." She smirked. "At least that was what your father tried to feed to his stunned ninja followers after they'd seen this."

A stirring of dread spun in the back of Karai's mind.

"I've watched this several times and simply can't believe what I see is an act. I remain wholly unconvinced. And I am not the only one. It would seem that the Foot Clan is not completely made up of the same type of ignorant fools that run it. This here," she pointed to the laptop screen, tapping her nails on top of it, "has caused quite an internal upheaval within your clan."

She raised her eyebrows at Karai's baffled expression. "You seem ignorant of what I'm about to show you. But if you were ordered to do this, then you should know of its existence."

Karai tried to blanket her expression in neutrality but she couldn't manage it. April blinked and shook next to her.

"I see. Hmm. Just as I suspected. No woman would be so loyal that they would willingly open their legs to such a . . . interesting . . . ?" She twisted, "What would you call this, Carlisle?" She pointed to the lap top screen but April couldn't see from where she was.

He grunted and shrugged. "A fucking freak."

"An animal of some sort." She twisted and smirked at Karai. "Naughty girl."

Karai's eyes widened in horror.  _No. Please. What . . ._

Sophia turned back and tilted her head at the small screen. "Hmm, freak of nature," she offered up and nodded, satisfied. "No woman would offer her body to a freak of nature such as this without some other motivation driving them."

Sophia turned and looked over her shoulder, one eye-brow raised. "Unless you're perhaps, a sexual deviant? In that case, what I have planned for you may be quite pleasurable. Let's get a fresh perspective. Let's see what your little friend here thinks after she sees this."

The blurred footage shook then steadied as the screen came to life and it was apparent that someone was recording this looking into a building from the outside. The screen blurred then focused and zoomed in.

Karai gasped and clenched her jaw.

April's eyes darted from Karai to the screen where they became locked. This video, unlike the others, had audio and the footage flashing before them captured both of their full attention.

A very naked woman with Karai's hair and build stood with her back to the camera. In front of her sitting on his knees beneath what looked like to be an angel statue sat one of the turtles. A pile of pillows and a blanket surrounded them. Behind them, the walls were charred and blackened.

April felt a lump form in her throat as she stared at her friend on the screen. He didn't have his mask on, making his blue eyes look huge; giving him a sweet, vulnerable appearance. She knew him instantly, as over the years, April grew to know all of them with or without their masks. Though his face had hardened and became gaunt and angular from his suffering and hard training since this video was recorded, she'd know him anywhere.

It was Leonardo.

His gentle voice, thick with emotion, spoke her name,  _"Karai . . ."_

Karai moved and sat in front of him and then her voice said, _"I want to see you."_

April couldn't see anything as the camera shifted; a charred and blackened wall came into focus and then the rock strewn ground and then again the camera focused on Leonardo and Karai at a new angle. From the side. April felt a deep blush burn her cheeks as her eyes moved down his body freezing and widening in surprise at his exposed, rigid flesh. She ducked her head and blinked rapidly and felt herself warm despite how wrong all of this was.

Karai on the screen positioned herself on top of Leonardo's lap as he leaned slightly away, an expression of fear and desire plainly on his innocent, rounded face. In this close-up, April could clearly see how his body trembled and shook. He looked terrified.

_"Karai . . . I…I've n-never –"_

_Karai put a finger against his lips silencing him._

April couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her face flushed a deeper crimson and she managed to shoot a glance at Karai before her eyes were dragged back to the heated, passion-filled scene before them. April couldn't process the fact that Karai had . . . had  _actually_  . . . really had . . . with, with, with  _Leo_. Her mind could barely accept what she was seeing with her very own eyes. Her mouth went dry and try as she might, she just could not tear her eyes away.

Casey had briefly mentioned something to her about Karai doing 'stuff' with Leo but he never elaborated. She had never imagined that 'stuff' had meant going all the way and having sex with him.

A voice in her mind wanted her to look away to spare Karai's dignity. But if it was all a trick, April's stomach churned and her heart clenched for Leonardo's feelings, then Karai deserved no compassion. Her eyes travelled to and focused on her friend's face on the screen. He seemed so frightened and vulnerable up on the screen; it was breaking April's heart.

She'd never seen Leo like this, never seen a look on his face like he wore in the video. It was so open and real. Almost childlike and it was nearly too painful for her to take.

She realized with a start and a twist in her stomach that this had been Leonardo's first time. That she and these strangers were witnessing it was so wrong and it infuriated her so greatly she began to shake. Fury flashed through her. How could Karai have done this? Surely she knew it was his first time! And…And then she turned around and betrayed him to her father, to be tortured and killed in cold blood? Who was capable of such a horrific thing?

Karai sat immobilized with horror and humiliation. Staring, unable to turn away, as the event that replayed itself night after lonely night in her dreams, now replayed on this screen before her and these strangers around her. Part of her fell numb as she thought,  _so, that's how he'd found out._  She'd been shadowed again as she'd feared. But never in her wildest imagination did she ever guess that her private moment with Leonardo would be recorded, saved and used against her. Used to fracture and destroy the Clan that her father had spent his entire life building.

Karai's face burned along with her eyes. Throat tight; barely breathing, she remembered how he trembled and shook. She remembered his hands clutching at her, running through her hair, with fleeting, nervous motions.

She did not remember how he gasped as she slid on top of him. She never saw the expression of awe and disbelief that played across his face while her own eyes were closed in ecstasy. She never saw how it changed to a look of anguished pleasure as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her.

A soft moan filled the room. Another.

_His breathy, gentle voice, "Karai . . . Uh, ohhho. Oh, Karai. Ohhh . . . uh! Karai. Karai. Oh, oh, uh."_

_Then Karai's voice cried out loudly. "Leonardo!"_

Karai flinched at that. Some terrible force was building inside her. She was losing control of herself.

April dropped her eyes away as her friend responded to Karai's climatic outburst with overflowing passion. She couldn't watch any longer. Shame burned her face. She should have stopped watching much sooner, but every attempt at resisting the intimate images proved futile. Guilt constricted her pounding heart.

Their heavy breathing and shallow panting and urgent wordless sounds filled the room. It seemed to thunder all around them. April closed her eyes as the sounds became more primal and intense until finally, finally, she knew it was over.

Over and over in her mind, she kept asking,  _How could you? How could you, Karai?_

Karai felt a scream rising up in her throat building from deep inside her chest. She trembled as she fought against it; bit her cheek and pressed her mouth into a thin line. She would not break. She would not. Mercifully, the screen went black before the shriek erupted from her. It died in her throat, leaving a bitter acidic aftertaste on the back of her tongue. Now she fought against the vomit rising from her churning stomach. Her lips quivered. The gash at her throat beneath the collar continued to bleed; warm and tickling down her chest under her ripped dress.

Sophia clapped slowly as Carlisle flipped the light switch bathing them in blinding brightness.

"Oh well done, Karai." She fanned a hand in front of her face as she stepped to the front of the mattress. "For an act, you performed so convincingly. That looked like you were enjoying your assignment thoroughly. And my god, Carlisle, did you see the size of him? Didn't that hurt?"

She smirked and stared at Karai who kept her eyes straight ahead; seething; gazing forward into the room; seeing nothing. A pair of hot tears slipped free and trailed down her flushed cheeks. She sat trembling despite wanted to sit still and appear calm; her pulse racing below her skin; humiliation and the urge to vomit gnawed at her stomach.

Sophia looked at April who raised glassy green eyes up at the taunting woman. "So, what do you think, Red? Was it real?"

April bit her tongue and said nothing, taking a cue from Karai. Karai's reaction confused April and she wondered about what she had seen.  _That was no act. It was real_ , her mind whispered.

And everything she thought she knew of Leonardo's betrayal and capture suddenly came into question. And everything she'd ever wondered and doubted about regarding the possibilities of a relationship and what limits there would be with Donatello vanished.

Sophia hummed and tilted her head.

"Quite a thing for a  _father_  to ask of his  _daughter_. To  _order_  her to do. Don't you think?"

She turned again to Karai who still sat struggling to be calm and silent. "To fuck a disfigured freak for the good of the clan? For that alone you should have expected deserters. But that's not why they are flocking to Venom. No. They will not serve someone like you, Karai. Someone who shames their family's name with such deviant acts. No matter how clever your father thought he was, the lie does not stand up to the hard evidence. No one will ever fight and struggle and  _die_  . . . for someone like you. Abomination. Freak-lover."

Her voice took on a taunting, disgusted note, "Was it, perhaps,  _true love_? Like Beauty and the beast, was it? You're not much of a beauty, but that mangled excuse for a man fits the bill as Beast."

April blanched. She never hated anyone in her life more than this woman standing before her taunting Karai for loving and being with Leonardo. Somehow, some way, she'd find a way to make this woman pay.

Laughing, Sophia turned to Carlisle who snorted at her jibe. "I wonder what her father will think of the show we have planned for him. We'll see how much his little kunoichi honors him. Let's get started." She offered her elbow and Carlisle took it. "We'll leave the ladies to stew for a bit while you gather the men and give them their instructions and I contact Mother and Auntie Annabelle."

She glanced over her shoulder at them as they turned towards the door. "Just look at them, Carlisle, so flushed and flustered. I think that little movie was a turn on for both of them." She sighed in mock frustration. "It's a shame we don't have any mutant freaks of our own to offer up." She nodded in Karai's direction. "At least she'd enjoy it a bit more. But then again, enjoyment isn't the point, is it?"

Carlisle shook his head, a wry grin on his face. And she laughed again. "My brother's honor will be avenged."

They were almost out of the doorway when she paused. "Oh, and only a beating for the red-head. Nothing else, understood? That should put the grunt in his place. Remind him who's in charge."

He nodded looking a bit discouraged. She glanced at April.

"No one can ever accuse me or my family of being unnecessarily cruel. Especially to those loyal to our cause." Her eyes snapped to Karai, "Unlike the Shredder with his daughter."

With that, the door snapped shut behind them.

Karai fell forward, as far as she could; the collar yanked at her raw and bleeding throat; gasping and making a terrible sound like she was going to be sick or hyperventilating or something, April wasn't sure. She knelt next to Karai and awkwardly rubbed her back with her bound hands as best as she could manage. Karai's body trembled violently and wouldn't stop. April was worried that she might pass out and be strangled by the short chain and collar. There was enough length for her to lay down, but not much else. She patted and rubbed and murmured comforting noises to her.

After a few minutes Karai composed herself enough to nod that she was okay and sat back. She closed her eyes. Feeling numb except for the stinging pain of the irritated gash at her neck.

"Karai," April began quietly, her voice growing smaller as she asked, "Was-Was . . . what we saw . . . on that video . . . of you and-and Leo . . . was it . . .  _real_?"

Karai rolled her head along the wall and opened her blood-shot eyes, staring at April from the side. She felt the urge to swear at the red-head. To yell and scream and curse at her. How stupid was she? Did she not have eyes in her head? Was that skull full of hot air?

But instead she simply asked, in a weak and tired voice, "What do you think?"

April frowned and bit her lip. Deciding something then. "They'll come for us. They'll rescue us."

Karai blinked and sighed heavily. If Donatello never gave her message to anyone, then all of them thought she had a hand in Leonardo's capture and torture. She highly doubted they'd spare any effort to come to her rescue after what they thought she'd done. Bitter tears burned the back of her blood-shot eyes. She sniffled. Her tongue probed the cut inside her mouth and she grimaced as April's reassurances echoed in her mind.

Leonardo probably despised her. She huffed in despair and irony at the situation. Hell, he'd probably kill her as soon as he laid eyes on her. At that she actually chuckled; breathy and soft.

April stared at her with wide eyes.

No. No rescue for her would be had at the turtles' hands.

As for her father? She cringed. They had him. She wasn't even sure that he was still alive. This was all her fault. Her fault for falling in love with the enemy. She closed her eyes tightly. She couldn't help it. He was everything she ever wanted. He was everything. More tears spilled from between her pinched eyelids and it enraged her. She punched her thighs.

April jumped; startled.

_"Fuck!"_

She never felt so helpless in her life. That monster was right when he said no one was coming for her. She was going to die here. She huffed through her nose, steeling herself with anger. Well, there was nothing she could do now.

_Nothing to do but face the consequences, I suppose._

A look of resignation fell over her face and it surprised April. She began to worry about Karai's state of mind. All the tough acting maybe was a sign of mental distress that ran deeper than simply stress from the situation. Crazy or not, she wanted to try to comfort the girl.

"The guys  _will_  come, Karai," she insisted in a tremulous voice.

Looking at the frightened red-head trembling next to her, Karai felt the most ridiculous urge to be a comfort to her. All the fury faded back and away, the sinking feeling of helplessness and depressed nihilism lifted and was replaced with a desire to help this girl next to her; to ease her fear; to protect her. As if April were a sister she never had. In another world, in another place maybe they could've even been sisters; or even better, at least, friends.

She reached over and took April's fingers and clutched them with her own, tightly.

"I'm sure they'll come," Karai said. April's mouth spread in a shaky smile as she nodded. Karai thought as April snuggled closer to her side, _They'll come for you, April. For you._

* * *


	13. Price of Love Paid in Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are still, ah, you know, a little bit intense below, so be warned. Buckle up, sweeties!

"…Red like the sense of a beast

White like the heart of a god

Red like molten hatred

White like chilling cries of pain

Red like shadows that feed on the night

Like a sigh piercing the moon

It shines white and scatters red." -Bleach #17 (opening poem)

* * *

Doctor Tsuneo rubbed his dry, red eyes and reread the information displayed on his screen with sinking dread. It had taken some hours of doggedly searching out dead-ends and slips of data that only led to building frustration. But he stubbornly plowed on; pulling back layer after layer, revealing more and more disturbing connections. Until finally he pieced the entire puzzle together from the broken bits of information he gathered through the tenacious searching.

The picture it formed was unsettling for more than one reason.

Ms. Annabelle Huber had a solid relationship with the Foot Clan and so they hadn't checked her relations perhaps as thoroughly as they should have. Apparently, Annabelle Huber's much younger sister, Lena was one, Marlena Brokker. She was married and widowed at an early age, but had kept her deceased husband's surname. Marlena Brokker, mother of Sophia and Marcus Brokker, and from what he could discern, she was also the longtime companion and illicit lover of Johann Courser; the suspected head of Venom and the biological father of her children.

Doctor Tsuneo sat back and sighed heavily. His tongue was a cotton wad inside his mouth.

_Saki, you fool, you have sown the seeds of your own destruction._

Tsuneo had known him for years. But this . . . he shook his head; dropping his whiskered chin to his chest. As a young man, Saki was obsessed with the virtue of honor. He wished to achieve his dream of power without stepping too far from the boundaries of his own definition of the notion. Knowing full well that he'd be forced to blur the lines at times to achieve his goals. In the beginning, he held true to his strongly held belief system. But it seemed that over the years, obstacles and challenges unforeseen drove Oroku Saki to stray further and further from his original carefully planned path of honor.

Most notably, whenever his heart became infatuated with a woman, it spelled trouble. He'd become deaf to logic and blind to reason; ever one to fall too fast, too hard; blindly stumbling from one impossible situation into another. And it cost him, every time. Possessiveness and obsession fueling his overwhelming emotional instability.

When it came to matters of the heart, Saki lost his way completely, doing whatever it took to gain and keep who he desired and protect what he felt was his. He was ruthless when it came to protecting his daughter, Karai, as she was growing up. Ruthless and apparently, a little too careless and much too cruel.

Doctor Tsuneo knew this stemmed from a broken childhood of being ostracized for his mixed race lineage and the abandonment by his American father; leaving his mother dishonored and alone to raise the boy. A struggling adolescence of fighting with his peers; seeking approval in the authority figures of his youth and finding none; turning instead, inwardly for encouragement and confidence. The rage and loneliness of his early years forged a steel will and determination to raise himself up beyond where he came from and eventually created the man he was today. Though the scars ran deep and the results of his struggles made their impact on his heart and psyche. Saki protected Karai, yes, but this time he'd gone too far in handing out retribution.

_If only he'd come to me, I would have steered him towards a more sane course of action in dealing with the boy._

Doctor Tsuneo glanced at the screen. Marlena's pretty face stared back at him. In the picture displayed, she was much younger. Around the age when she would have given birth to her second child, Marcus. Yes, she was beautiful. No wonder the Master of Venom had taken her as a lover.

The door to his office opened with a slam and his face shot up, stealing his wandering thoughts back to the fact that he needed to get moving.

"Sir, the vehicles are ready," the soldier in the black uniform said.

Doctor Tsuneo closed the laptop and stood abruptly, the bones in his knees cracked. He nodded and hurried out of the office through the hallway to the front door. He threw a notebook opened to the front page onto his receptionist's desk.

Hopefully between the messages he left for his team as well as for her on her voice mail along with the instructions written here she'd be able to keep the patients attended to while he took care of this Foot Clan business.

The doctor glanced at his watch as he climbed into the car. It would take at least two hours to reach the Huber residence. He only hoped he wasn't too late to rescue the man who was more like a son to him than he'd ever know.

* * *

Saki tried to raise his head up from the pillow. Sweat pearled and slipped down the sides of his face as he strained until the cords of his neck stood out. With a defeated grunt, his head fell back. A bolt of pain shot through his chest and side. He clamped his eyes closed until the cramping ache subsided. Panting, he tried with his legs. After a few minutes of struggling, he found he'd been only able to move his right leg an inch or so closer to the edge of the mattress.

Annabelle sat on the foot of the bed with her back to him. Typing something and muttering to herself. She glanced over her shoulder at Saki when she felt his attempt to move with his leg.

"I thought you were an honorable man, once."

Saki laid still as he listened. Then continued to force his body to move. Every inch was a victory.

"This is all my fault," she went on more to herself than him. "If I hadn't sung your praises so much and suggested your prestigious school of martial arts for my nephew, Marcus wouldn't have been sent there by his father." She sighed. "He had so much potential. Just like his father."

Marcus? Why did that name sound familiar? Saki stared at the white ceiling above him as he frantically searched his memories. A chill went through him as a face rose up out of the depths of decisions he'd made over the years that he'd tried to subdue. Marcus Brokker. The boy that Karai had tried to kill for spurning her. The boy who'd dared touch her. The boy he had his elite guard arrange to sell to the flesh trader near Izmir in Turkey.

The tiny wave of guilt was replaced with white seething rage. No. The students knew they were not to go near Karai. He got what he deserved. The pig should have never touched his daughter to begin with.

Lena stepped back inside the room. Saki's eyes followed her. She was now dressed in a dark blue uniform. The top was sleeveless and she pulled a black silk kimono-type robe over her bare arms and cinched the waist with a silk ribbon, tying it into a bow at her side. Her hair was pulled into a high pony-tail.

Looking at her now, he saw the resemblance clearly and he cursed himself for not seeing it earlier. He truly was getting old. Old and careless.

"Sister, you mustn't blame yourself. The ones guilty of my son's torture are in our custody, now." She glanced at Saki who watched her move into the room with narrowed eyes full of hatred. "They will pay for what they did to him. Marcus will have justice. And when we are done with them, I will have their heads delivered to Johann myself."

Saki frowned.  _Johann? Johann Courser? The leader of Venom? How was he involved? Were these women associated with Venom? But how?_

His soldiers would have discovered this link if it existed. He wondered again at the internal treachery happening throughout his clan. Perhaps they did know and were in on the set-up.

One thing was certain, he had to escape. Escape and kill these wretches and track down everyone involved until he rooted out the source of the rot decaying the core of his clan and removed it once and for all. He would not let his life work crumble around him while he still lived. He concentrated on trying to move his fingers and was greatly encouraged by the ability to close his hands into weak fists. It wasn't much but it was a start. The serum that Lena had injected him with was wearing off.

Annabelle's shoulders slumped. "Still…I can't believe they did this to him."

"He is strong willed, my sweet boy. I know he will heal and become a great leader. As he was destined to be. These  _worms_  will not steal away his future."

"Yes, but I am still so very sorry…"

Lena hushed her and pointed at the screen as it filled with a young woman's face. Lena reached over and tapped a few keys as the picture froze and pixilated then cleared again.

"Mother, Auntie Annabelle, are you there? Can you see me clearly?" When both women nodded, she went on, "The soldiers are ready and waiting for your signal. I have one captive that will be dealt with on separate conditions. So pay the red-haired woman in the room no mind."

Lena and Annabelle stood up and moved to either side of the table. They adjusted it and moved it closer. Then tilting her head, Lena stepped around the bed and reached behind Saki's head and grasped the pillow while Annabelle shoved another beneath it; propping him upright.

Saki gritted his teeth and pulled with all his strength to reach up at Lena. His intent was to grab her by the throat and strangle the life from her, but he only managed to reach up with trembling hands to his chest before Lena playfully knocked them back.

She smirked and looked down his still naked body. Her fingers lightly trailed down his sweating and quivering torso. She paused just beneath his navel. Her eyes traveled to Annabelle as she cocked an eyebrow.

"We could make things even more interesting, sister."

Annabelle shook her head and grimaced in distaste. "I know he deserves this, Lena, but let's not get carried away."

Lena brought her eyes from his manhood to his face. "I suppose you're right. I don't want to stoop to his level of depravity." With a rough jerk, she pulled the blanket up, covering him.

Internally, Saki gave a sigh of relief. He was grateful to be spared further humiliation, but as his eyes made their way to and then locked on the laptop screen the gratitude was instantly replaced with a thunderous, blinding rage. The screen revealed his daughter, bloody and bound in a gray room on top of a mattress with what looked like someone who resembled April O'Neil next to her.

* * *

It was April that noticed the laptop suddenly blinked to life on the table across from them. She pulled away from Karai where she was trying, and failing at, loosening the collar's chain at the back of Karai's neck.

"What's wrong?" Karai asked as April stood up. She leaned her head down not believing what she saw. On the screen, it looked like a man sitting up in bed . . . The hair, the scars on one side of his face. It couldn't be. She slowly turned her head to Karai.

"I-I think that's Shredder, er, your father, Karai."

Karai started and rose up on her knees; the collar dug in and a fresh swath of blood poured over her collarbone. She barely registered the stinging pain, though.

"Let me see!  _Father!?_  Father is that you?" She looked from the screen to April desperately. "Is he okay? Can't he hear me?"

April came closer to the screen a feeling of strange surreal-ness flowing through her as she asked, "Mister . . . uh, um, I mean, Shredder?"

"Saki," Karai snapped. "His name is Oroku Saki."

Just then a soldier stormed into the room. April spun around and back up quickly. He made to grab her and she ducked and ran around him, scrambling madly towards the door. Before she got far, he shot his hand out and grabbed her by the back of her head. His fist tightened in her hair as her knees buckled.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snarled in her ear.

Three more men entered. They stood looking from Karai to April as she writhed trying to free herself; her pajama shirt falling open as she struggled with the soldier's fist in her hair. One of them broke free from the group. He walked up to April and punched her in the stomach. She buckled and fell to the floor as the men around her laughed. The soldier who held her hair in his fist kicked her once in the back.

"Fucking cowards!" Karai screamed and tried to rise to her feet, the collar choking her off; making her squat awkwardly on the mattress.

The three ninjas turned their attention from April to her and she growled at them. They advanced and she snapped her foot out at the closer one. He jumped back and chuckled as she did the same with the other soldier. Her attempts were clumsy due to the way she was forced to stand. The shorter of the two men blocked her next kick and twisted his wrist so that he caught her ankle in his rough grip. He shifted his body and yanked at her leg and Karai's body jerked hard and went down. She grunted as all the air rushed out from her lungs and then choked as she tried to gasp for more; the collar cutting into off her air supply.

She kicked madly with her feet as she felt their calloused hands grabbing at and yanking on her ankles and legs. With gritted teeth, Karai brought both her hands down again and again, striking one of them on the side of his head and face until she heard the satisfying sound of his nose breaking. He fell back with a pained shout.

_"Bitch!"_

Before she could celebrate her small victory, another filled his spot, grabbing her wrists and pulling them back above her head as he dragged her onto her back and held her there. He pressed his knee into her bound wrist, sending a bolt of agony up into her elbows. He chuckled as she struggled and bucked; throwing snap kicks and bringing up her knees sharply whenever she felt a body get too close.

They surged towards her. Their fingers clawed at her dress and she felt it being torn free. She snarled as she heard the material being shredded to pieces; saw strips of it flying like ribbons and confetti thrown in the air at a birthday party. Between the curses and feral sounds coming from the men, their laughter reached her; shooting ice through her veins.

April's gaping mouth fought to gulp at the air as her face pressed against the cool floor of the room. As she struggled to take a breath she felt her hair being gathered in another fist as she was pulled up to her knees. Pain flashed over her already tender scalp. A ninja crouched before her and with a tilted head considered her a moment, then backhanded her.

"Tell your boyfriend, that dogs need to be obedient. Understand?"

April tasted blood as she fell to the side, head spinning and vision blurring with tears. She felt his hands on her, pulling at her pajama bottoms. For a second terror froze her to the spot.

"No! Don't touch me!" April shrieked; breaking from her terrified stupor; spitting blood as she shouted. She thrashed wildly at him, knocking them back a little before someone grabbed her by the throat and squeezed. The man dragged her up to her feet as she brought her bound hands crashing against one side of his arm. Black dots began to form in front of her vision.

"Save it for Karai. This one only gets a beating," the man choking her commanded in a soft voice to the ninja surrounding him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man turn towards the mass of people fighting on the mattress. Karai's grunts and short bursts of shrieking curses filled the room between the jeers, taunts and laughter of the soldiers. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She shifted and struggled in his hold but found her strength draining along with her consciousness.

"Don't . . . hurt her . . ."

The tall soldier peered at her through the netted eye holes. She could just see the glint in his dark eyes. He eased off a little and April sucked in air through swollen trembling lips.

"Don't worry about her. Worry about yourself. The freak-lover's going to get what she deserves."

* * *

Casey stepped through the door into the room that served as the access point to the warehouse. He pressed the metal door as far back as it could go against the wall and left it like that so that the space was open to the outside. Four shadows criss-crossed just beyond the door. His white hockey mask sat on the top of his head like a hat. The bag full of sports equipment hung on his back suspended by a thick strap over one shoulder.

The guard that Casey knew as Tyrese, gave him a slow, uninterested glance from beneath heavy brows from behind the glass partition.

Casey waved, then pointed to the locked door with his thumb and shrugged; sticking his hands deep into the front pockets of his baggy jeans. Tyrese ignored him and went back to reading his magazine, Parakeet Enthusiast; holding it in such a way that Casey could see the bright blue bird gracing the cover.

Casey reached up and slid the hockey mask down over his face and tapped at the glass with the end of a hockey stick.

Tyrese raised his sleepy eyes just over the top of his magazine; he stared, bored and unimpressed as Casey gave him the finger; blue eyes glittering behind the eye holes. He gazed without moving at the man standing in the middle of the small room wearing a ski mask and holding a hockey stick in his left fist.

When he still received no other response than the bored glare, Casey looked down and to the side as though resigned. He reared back and with took two skipping steps and brought the stick around from the back; crashing against the glass. Again and again Casey struck the glass and as it began to splinter and crack, Tyrese carefully closed then set aside his beloved magazine, rose to his full height and steadily moved around the desk to a side access door. He stepped through and towered over Casey as he filled the small space.

Casey stepped back; craning his neck to look at the man's face and said with a muffled voice, "Jesus, Tyrese, you sure eat your Wheaties, don't cha?"

The man gave Casey a half smile and cracked his neck to one side, then the other.

"The fuck your problem is tonight, Jones?" his voice full of resonant base pounded down at Casey.

Behind him, unseen, four shadows dashed around and slipped in through the open door.

Just as Tyrese caught something from one corner of his eye, he turned his head in time to see a creature inside his booth, pulling cords and ripping wires out of the security system connected to his desk. His brown eyes widened to circles as he took in the creature's appearance; the hands with three fingers; the rippling muscles and purple mask covering its eyes and realized with a sense of wonder and fear that it was one of the fabled turtle ninja freaks _. They were real. Really real!_

"Cool," he said softly.

But his wonder and excitement froze as the security sets all blanked behind the freak and the door to the main area clicked and unlocked. The creature looked up and its narrowed eyes were white behind the mask. Then it turned and disappeared through the door leading into the main area.

"The fuck . . ."

Tyrese never finished that sentence as a hockey stick came flying from the side, cracking him square in the temple and felling the giant of a man where he stood.

Casey clambered up and over the man's unconscious bulk.

* * *

Saki felt the hot tears burning the back of his eyes as he watched his daughter fighting off the men.

She fought with a rage and spirit that made him hurt with pride but also seared him with a terror he'd never experienced before. The bed was quaking from his body's shaking. His jaw was clenched so tightly the back molars were nearly cracking. Foam and spittle formed and dribbled down the corners of his grimacing lips. His fingers clawed at the blanket around his body. His eyes bulged with effort as he strained to get up. His mind screamed in frustration and self-loathing for his weakness.

He had to do something! He would not lay here and watch his daughter be raped and murdered while he did nothing!

Lena exchanged glances with Annabelle and she smirked at his helpless fury.

Annabelle turned away from the screen and stepped over to the window; uncomfortable. She pulled back a curtain and looked outside. Lena sat next to him on the bed; close but not too close. She ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair and patted his cheek. He snapped at her and she pulled her hand away as she laughed.

* * *

The man holding April's throat turned and dropped her as loud shouting came from the main room. A ninja filled the doorway.

"You get out here now. We're under attack!"

April fell to the floor coughing as he strode by the group attacking Karai. Several of the men wrestling with Karai stopped they exchanged glances; unsure. He turned to them and pointed at one and motioned for him to come with, leaving three to continue with the girl. They rushed out as more shouts and cries of pain filled the air.

April shook her head and blinked away the hot tears blinding her. Exhaustion weighed on her and her body ached with every move; her head pounded relentlessly. She felt as though she were moving through chest-deep mud; every limb felt heavy and weak.

Karai's grunts and whimpering snapped her to attention. She wasn't sure how far the men had gotten with Karai, but she hoped the girl was okay. April was sure that Karai was tiring from fighting them off. She had to do something help.

Digging deep, April pulled the last bits of strength she had and lunged at one of the men, knocking him sideways off of Karai. They tumbled and rolled and April landed on her back. She used her feet to kick at the man's face as he reared up and back. He dodged and brought his arms up to block her attack.

The man kneeling on Karai's wrists ignored April's skirmish with his comrade and moved to press all of his weight down on to her shoulders; pinning her back as the last bits of her dress was torn away. He reached down and grabbed the front of her bra and tugged until it ripped it free, marking her skin with long red stripes.

Karai strained and turned her head and managed to sink her teeth into the man's arm. Blood filled her mouth as the man hollered above her but didn't release her arms. Instead, he pulled his bleeding arm back and punched her repeatedly in the face. She shook her head back and forth trying to avoid the vicious blows and frantically kicked her legs out at the ninja grabbing at her body. The last of her clothing was stripped from her sweating, bruised body.

The soldier crouched over her between her legs had to stop and grapple as she bucked and thrashed with her legs.

 _"No!"_ she gasped.  _"Get off me! No!"_

* * *

Leonardo swung both arms up to the left as he leapt into the air; bringing them down in a swift arc; knocking a soldier against the side of his head with the blunt ends of his swords. The soldier staggered to one knee. A spin kick finished him.

Leonardo fell and crouched; breathing heavy; beating back the panic; trying to lose himself in the rush of battle; but worry dogged at his concentration. He turned his head; eyes swiftly scanning the floor for any sign of April or Karai. 

_Where are you?_

Casey burst into the room; brandishing a hockey stick in one hand and a bat in another; screaming at the top of his lungs,  _"Goongala! Goongala!"_

The bat found the small of one ninja's back. He dropped with a howl; the impact rupturing his left kidney. Two more attacked Casey from the side. They were quickly knocked back.

Casey sped past Leonardo, shouting something Leonardo couldn't catch. His voice was drowned out by the man screaming in Leonardo's face about him being a freak.

Raphael's ferocious growl cut through the chaos. A few yards away from where Leonardo stood scuffling; swords locked with the screaming ninja; Raphael dodged and weaved between several ninjas in blue; kicking out and spinning; sliding forward and lashing upwards with precision; hitting and clearing away all his targets. He wiped his nose with one thumb and snickered as more circled him. Blood trickled from superficial cuts all along his arms and chest. Sweat poured in long rivers down his neck and over his broad shoulders. His green eyes glinted; fierce and intimidating.

"C'mon, guys. Don't just stand there, I'm gettin' bored." He turned; looking each one in the eye; twirling his sais; thick muscles rippling and bunching as he braced for their attack.

Donatello ran between the space that opened as they dove at Raphael, knocking any foes in his path across the face and jabbing them in their stomachs. He ducked as a ninja swung a wicked curved blade; the edge cutting cleanly through the ends of his mask's tails. He stuck the end of his bo into the floor and ran around it and slid on his side, taking the ninja down as he crashed into the man's ankles. Donnie sat up and with a short, quick jab knocked him out cold.

A man tackled Donatello from behind, grabbing his head and flipping him forward. They tumbled together; slamming into more men as they rolled.

Leonardo straightened up from where he loomed over the downed soldier, no longer screaming at him, and looked over the heads of the men that circled him; catching sight of Michelangelo leaping and knocking soldiers down and back with his nun-chucks and spin kicks. Leonardo's eyes focused on the wall just behind Michelangelo and his gaze fell on an open door. He caught a flash of red from the corner of his eye as he swung his head back; dodging a sai as it cut through the air an inch away from his left eye; one curved point sliced through his cheek.

He hissed a breath and threw a round house kick. He followed with swinging his swords out and around then moved into a series of katas that were his own finely tuned movements; combining defensive and offensive moves that seemed to throw the men around him off balance. Two more went down and his eyes trained back to the flash of red.

Someone was staggering out of the room.

_April!_

_"Don! There!"_ he shouted and felt a fist knock him in the back of his head while he was distracted. He careened forward, then lurched back as a soldier swept twin blades at his throat.

Donatello punched the man he was straddling twice in the temple, knocking him out. His hand throbbed and he cradled it for a second against his chest. He heard Leo's voice holler at him above the din. His face darted around the madness of the room, spotting the flash of pink pattern pajamas just as she was knocked to one side by a crowd of men rushing towards him.

With a strangled, hoarse cry, Donatello leapt off the downed man. He ducked and grabbed his bo in a sweating fist. Three men surged into him; punching and jabbing at him. He fought the three men in front of him, pushing them back; bringing his arms back; swinging the powerful bo around his head and cracking the skulls around him. He dashed towards the spot where April fell to her hands and knees; head down; face obscured by her hair. 

_Please be okay!_

A heel caught the side of Leonardo's head and he stumbled to the side. Everything seemed to slow around Leonardo as the encroaching group he was dodging from and fighting with bumped and jostled him. He stumbled forward again and through the opening of soldiers he glimpsed through the doorway that April had stumbled through.

He blinked the burning sweat from his eyes as his mind focused on what he saw there; a ninja on his knees, on top of someone; holding someone down; the flash of bare, white flesh; another man positioned between . . . and on top of . . .  _No_  . . . Her agonized scream shot through the chaos of grunts, curses, groans, and howls of pain. 

 _No. Please, No._  Her scream reached his ears and pierced his soul like a bolt of electric fear.

**_"NOOO!"_ **

His eyes went white with rage as the world turned red around him.

Raphael snapped his head around with the sound of Leonardo's anguished howl of terror and rage. He wiped his bloody chin with one shoulder; gasping and catching his breath while the last of his foes backed up; hurting and injured.

He watched, wide eyed, as Leonardo shifted his swords and started cutting his way through the men; no longer fighting defensively or with little aggression. He was slashing into and through any and every body part that got in the way. Long crimson sprays flowed along with the arcing, sweeping glint of silver steel.

With grim yet beautiful grace, Leonardo sliced a scarlet path through the men to the room where April had just stumbled out from.

"Shit just got real," Raph muttered and shouldered his way through a group of retreating soldiers in Leonardo's direction; jabbing up and into anyone dumb enough to stand in his way.

No longer holding back; showing the ninjas around him no mercy now that Leonardo had lost control.

* * *

April raised her spinning, pounding head just as Casey dropped to his knees next to her. He shoved his mask back to the top of his head. He reached near her shoulders, moving to cover her exposed upper body by easing her shirt back up over her shoulders. She panicked and scratched at him, growling from between clenched teeth like a wild animal.

He took her wrists as gently as he could and held her clawing fingers down and away from his face. "April, it's  _me_! It's me, Casey!"

Her blood-shot eyes peered at him from under her mussed hair. "Casey?"

"Oh god, baby. Are you okay?"

She shook her head as a sob erupted from her lips; her bottom lip puckering as more tears spilled free and ran down her filthy face.

Casey felt his heart breaking as he took in the bruises across her cheeks and throat, the blood on her swollen lips and chin. Voice thick he said, "I'm so sorry, April. I'm so sorry." He pulled her into a tight embrace as she shook and trembled and wept into his shoulder.

He buried his face into her hair and choked out, "We're gettin' you outta here." He gathered her up in his arms as she trembled but then she stiffened; bracing her bound hands against his chest.

"W-Wait, you have to help her…They…they're . . ." she made a choked sound and couldn't finish her sentence as guilt speared her through. When she'd broken free from the ninja that she'd tackled, he struck her against the side of her head before running out there to join in the main battle. Stunned, she'd stumbled out into the main room, and got knocked back and trampled, temporarily forgetting about Karai being attacked behind her.

"Please help her."

Men scrambled around, screaming and clutching at bleeding stumps that were once arms or hands as Casey's eyes darted across the blood spattered floor over his shoulder. Leonardo emerged like a gore-covered avenging angel from the chaos; blades and body dripping red with sweat and blood; he raced past them into the room.

"I, uh, think it's covered. C'mon."

He wrapped his arms under her legs and around her back as she looped her bound arms over his head. He picked her up and she buried her tear-streaked face into his neck, nuzzling him as she shook and let relief and a torrent of tears wash away some the fear.

. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! You'll see why Don didn't make it to her side! Sorry, it was getting really long - will update asap, I promise!
> 
> HEY! That one-shot of what happened at Casey's New Year's Eve Party is up if you didn't see it. It's called "New Year's Eve Kisses Don't Count" and I would like to know what you think! 
> 
> One last thing - If you don't know Bleach by Tite Kubo, you really need to get your hands on it. Incredible story, there's manga and anime versions. Both are very very good. I'm addicted right now and thoroughly in love with Ichigo, sorry Leo, you didn't hear that. heehee XD 
> 
> Have a great week and remember to review cuz it keeps me sane! For true? For true!


	14. Difference Between Heroes and Villains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still pretty violent but this should be the last with this level of intensity.

_"He loves deep . . . hates hard . . ._

_All great warriors are such men."_ –Forrest Carter,  _The Outlaw Josey Wales_

* * *

 

Donatello leapt over the downed bodies, crossing the room to April, but four soldiers replaced the three he just cleared. His toes dug into the mat below his feet as he was forced to come to a stuttering, sliding stop. He swore under his breath in frustration.

He needed to get to her. See if she was hurt. They only paused a heartbeat; then they rushed him. He jabbed at them with sweat-soaked hands and spun the staff defensively to the left then to the right.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Casey make it to her side first. Anger and a bolt of jealousy flashed through him.  _Great_.

Feeling blades bite into his thighs and shoulders as they swung short handled kamas and katanas at him; he swore. A katana swept just over his head as he ducked.

He needed to focus here before they made him a foot shorter than he already was. He bit back the knot frustration rising from his chest into his throat. Sweat flew in long strands from his jaw and shoulders as he weaved and ducked again; bringing his bo up to block first in front of him then left and right; spinning it with aching wrists and burning shoulders. He pushed back the creeping exhaustion and clenched his jaw as he brought the end of his bo up into a ninja's chin. The man's head snapped back and he went down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Casey wrap his arms around April.  _Dammit_. With newfound fury, he brought his bo around in a clean sweep. The three left standing suddenly straightened. They backed up and scattered. His face shot to April as she nuzzled into Casey's neck as he lifted her; his heart constricted and plummeted.  _April._

With a racing heart, he shoved away the jealousy and told himself the most important thing was she was safe. He started in their direction when Mikey's voice called out.

_"No! Stop!"_

Donatello twisted around just as the loud pop exploded above him.

In what seemed to be slow motion, he saw his younger brother lunging towards him; twisting around; using his body to shield Donatello. Then Mikey falling back; nunchucks flying out to the sides as both hands came up and clutched at his face; his mask split into a floating orange ribbon as blood sprayed in a wide arc following him as he fell, crashing into Donatello.

Time resumed its normal pacing as together they tumbled to the floor. Michelangelo groaned as he rolled off of Donatello's chest to one side and lay trembling before becoming still. Stunned, Donatello looked down to see his chest covered in blood.

Mikey's blood.

" _No! Mikey!"_  Raph's scream erupted from somewhere behind Donatello.  _"Mikey!"_

Donatello's unbelieving gaze rose to see a blonde woman standing; legs spread apart; a smoking gun in one hand on the second story balcony; sneering down at him. She raised the barrel; taking aim for Donatello's head. He sat frozen in numb shock; unable to move. One thought reverberating through his horror-stricken mind,  _She shot Mikey!_  

Before she pulled the trigger again, he saw a man with close-cropped hair rush up to her from out of the office door behind her. He pointed to the ceiling and shouted something about the helicopter. She turned and swiftly fled; followed by wounded ninjas streaming away in retreat.

Donatello turned to Michelangelo, with shaking hands, he gently grabbed his shoulder to turn him; a pool of blood spread from beneath his head.

Raphael ran, sliding and slipping across the blood streaked floor left by Leonardo's rampage. Blue-clad ninjas scattered in every direction as they fled from the bulky mutant; following their leader in retreating. Panting heavily, Raph dropped to his knees next to Donatello and Michelangelo. Red stained sais fell from his hands. His trembling fingers clutched at the floor near Michelangelo's shell as if he were afraid to touch his brother.

"Mikey! Mikey are you okay? Bro? Is he okay, Donnie? Is he? For Christ sake, Don, tell me if he's  _okay!"_

* * *

Saki, trembling and shaking, tore his gaze from the laptop where the soldiers were tearing into his daughter like a pack of starved wolves. He stared at the woman sitting on the bed, watching the screen with a tired look of boredom on her face. Clenching his jaw and forcing his sluggish body to accept and carry out the frantic commands his brain was screaming, he lurched to one side.

His fingers fumbled at the sleeve on her kimono as she jumped up from where she sat.

"Oh!"

Annabelle turned away from the window.

"Seems like he needs another dose. Anna, I thought you told me that would keep him immobile for several hours," Lena said, a hint of worry lacing her words.

"I . . . I was sure it would."

"I'm doubling the dose this time. We can't risk him attacking us."

The sound of several vehicles pulling up to the front of the house had Annabelle spinning around back to the window. She gasped and Lena froze in her tracks. Saki raised his head from the mattress. On the screen Karai fought on as April tackled one of the men assaulting her and rolled out of the view of the camera on the lap top in the room.

"Lena," Annabelle said as she gripped the gauzy curtains in her fists. Her voice was low but the words were laced with fear. "Get out of here. Now. Go out the back and use the bike. Go into the mountains. Get as far away as you can."

"What? B-But how? How could they have . . . No. I'm not leaving until I finish this." She crossed the room, picking up a dagger laid on the dresser across from the bed. "I will have my son's revenge!" Lena, blade positioned in one fist, lunged onto the bed as Saki rolled to his back with a pained grunt.

He brought his hand up in time to catch her descending wrist. They struggled. Pain lanced through his chest and side. The bandages around his torso turned pink then a deep red as his wounds reopened.

"What are you doing? Get out of here, sister!" Annabelle screamed.

"You bastard! You deserve death," Lena, her eyes bulging, snarled in Saki's face as she pushed down with all her might on the blade aimed for the middle of his chest.

"You must leave now-"

Annabelle's voice was cut short as the window exploded behind her. Her body jerked. Glass scattered in a spreading, glittering eruption around the woman. The tip of a blood covered arrow burst from the front of her chest. Her mouth hung slack with surprise and pain. She coughed once as blood bubbled up and out of her open mouth then dropped to the floor.

Lena reared back, distracted by her sister's scream and gruesome death. As she did, her hold on the dagger slackened.

Saki brought his other hand up and tried to grab the woman by the throat. She jerked and pulled back hard enough to slip free from his fumbling fingers. With an inhuman snarl, Lena pulled her arm back and plunged the blade down into Saki's upper right chest. A blaze of white pain went through him. His body bucked and his head was thrown back in agony.

_"Monster!"_

She pulled the knife out and he hissed in pain. She reared back and moved to plunge it again into his chest when her body went rigid; face thrown up to the ceiling; the dagger fell from her stiff clawing fingers. A black clothed arm came around from the back of her body. Saki saw the flash of steel as a blade was swept cleanly across the woman's throat. A spray of blood blanketed his legs as Lena collapsed forward.

A lone Foot ninja stood next to the bed. The figure moved swiftly to ball up part of the blanket and pressed it into Saki's wound.

Soldiers streamed into the room, followed by Doctor Tsuneo, barking orders at them in Japanese. They immediately began clearing the room and sweeping for any further danger.

"Saki . . . Saki, are you all right?" Doctor spoke quickly as he opened his medical bag and then turned to bark out more orders at the men around them.

As the doctor worked on him, Saki laid back on the sweat soaked bed. Silent and still, he endured the pain as well as the hands wiping the sweat and blood from his face and body. He ignored the doctor's mutterings as he cleaned and stitched the knife wound and unwrapped the bloody bandages around his torso. His eyes drifted to the screen.

Though he did not want to see what was happening to his daughter, he couldn't help but lock his sights on it. He braced himself for the worst possible scenario.

But what he saw instead shocked him to his core. His burning eyes stared at what was happening, hundreds of miles away like a vision from a surreal dream borne of madness. The brutality and ruthlessness employed to stop the men from attacking his daughter matched only what he'd expect from his own hands.

And even as his mind reeled with the implications of what he was seeing, immediately the beginning of an answer to the question of the Foot Clan's breakdown became apparent.

It was Karai. And this one, the one butchering the men who were hurting his daughter; Leonardo. The recording of them together. It was the source of the fracture within the clan.

He continued to stare at the scene between his daughter and her rescuer. Of course. It all became clear. Whether he liked it or not, what he saw was the truth. And Oroku Saki never fled from truth, no matter how much it burned. And right then his very soul was on fire.

As he stared at the screen, he knew with certainty. There was only one choice left for him. A choice that he would offer this creature to make in exchange for saving his daughter from a dishonorable death at the hands of his enemy.

"Have my plane readied."

Doctor Tsuneo's face shot up. "Y-You are in no condition for travel! Saki, as your doctor, I forbid this."

Saki levelled a look at the doctor. They held each other's eyes locked for a moment before Doctor Tsuneo dropped his away. He grumbled under his breath but knew it was futile to try to talk sense into the stubborn young man.

* * *

Moments before Saki's rescue, Leonardo raced into the room where they had Karai. All he saw was the two men on top of her; one holding her down and another trying to rape her. All he knew was he would make them stop.

Make them . . .

With a snarl, Leonardo drove his twin blades through the man's back that was positioned between Karai's legs just as he reared up and moved to twist around. The ends of the swords burst through the ninja's chest. The soldier made a choked sound as he pulled the gleaming swords free.

_Stop._

He swept his dripping blades back and then to the side, freeing the man's head from his shuddering body. He kicked the body back and away from his love.

_Stop._

Leonardo took a step and with a strangled cry plunged both blades into the ninja's stomach just as he was jumping to his feet. He grabbed the blades with his bare hands. The hands that were holding her down.

_STOP._

Leonardo pulled out the swords and swept them down and through the man's wrists, severing both hands. The man howled in an animalistic scream of agony that was cut short as he was beheaded. He kicked the body in the chest. It fell back and laid still as Leonardo, chest heaving, arms shaking, turned to Karai.

**_STOP._ **

His swords fell from his numb hands. They clattered to the ground, the sound shattering the deafening silence around them. The adrenaline drained from his body in a sickening rush. He saw her and yet could not accept what he saw.

She lay with her face turned to the wall; knees up, pressed together; her mussed hair obscured her features; unmoving. He paled as he took in the blood covering her chest from what he thought was a long gash across her throat.

His shining eyes dropped and widened as a memory of a nightmare returned to him. One of Karai, screaming for him, her throat cut, blood spilling over her naked body. His knees gave out; he dropped.

_What have they done?_

A soft moan slipped from her lips. For a moment, he was frozen in place; unsure if he really heard her make a sound. He was shaking from terror and exertion; looming over her; afraid to believe she wasn't dead; dripping in gore; looking himself like something out of a nightmare. The sound came again and this time he saw a tremor run over her body.

With a small wordless noise, he hurriedly yanked the leather strap off his shoulder with his thumb and pulled his torn and blood spattered black t-shirt over his head and off his body. He covered her with it.

He slid a small dagger from his belt and for a moment hesitated, but then lifted her arm as gently as he could and cut through the tape binding her wrists. With a clenched jaw and unshed tears blinding him, he pulled the tape from her raw wrists and threw it to the side. His breath hitched and caught as he carefully lowered her arms down, noting the deep finger-shaped bruises where the men had gripped her and held her.

Her face turned to him then and his breath was stolen from him as their eyes met and locked. She blinked slowly. Her eyes were glazed over with pain and exhaustion. Her lips parted.

"My . . . hero," she whispered and her eyes rolled up into her head and she passed out.

A wordless cry erupted from him as he collapsed onto her and gathered her in his arms and pressed her to his chest. He nuzzled his face into her hair; holding her and rocking her; losing all his composure as tears spilled out from his clenched eyes; painting his face in light green streaks.

Moving quickly, with shaking but ever gentle hands, he pulled his shirt over her head and gently moved her arms through the large sleeves and pulled the hem down to where it fell just below her hips. He pulled her back into his arms where he knelt at the edge of the mattress on the floor.

He pressed his cheek onto the top of her head. His frantic mind raced. He needed to take her somewhere safe. Somewhere where he could care for her. His mind scattered.

Then his room rose up in his mind. The lair. Yes. He'd take her to the safest place in the entire world. His room. His home. They would never be able to find her there. Not this rival clan, not the Foot soldier, not her father.

And he would never let her leave without him by her side. He would never let her be harmed again. Not as long as he lived. He would keep her safe. Safe in his room. Forever.

* * *

Outside in the main expanse of the warehouse, where now most all of the ninjas had fled, two brothers huddled together over their fallen younger sibling as Casey moved towards them, still carrying April in his arms.

Chest tight with fear, Donatello rolled Michelangelo carefully over, cradling his head on his lap. His face was a mask of red. His left eye was a mess of blood and gore Raphael made a strangled sound in the back of his throat when he saw the damage. Donatello ripped his own mask off and pushed it into the wound. Michelangelo's body jumped; he mewled softly in pain.

"Wh-What are you doin'? You're gonna hurt him!"

Raphael grabbed at Donatello's arm, squeezing it hard, shoving at him, yanking on his elbow. The motion bumped and jerked his arm; knocking his hand around that was putting pressure on Michelangelo's eye. Donatello roughly shrugged him off; his cold eyes, flat with fury, locked on him.

In his scratchy voice, Donatello shouted, _"Back off! I have to stop the_ _ **bleeding**_ _, you fucking stupid lummox!"_

Raphael fell back, stung and shocked at Donatello's foul language and cruel words. But it seemed to snap Raphael out of his panicked state. "R-Right. Sorry."

Donatello jumped as he felt Michelangelo's hand grip his forearm. He opened his mouth.

"'M okay," he breathed then groaned out, "Massive headache, though."

"No, save your strength, buddy," Raphael murmured and grabbed his hand from Donatello's arm and gave it a squeeze.

Donatello wiped at his eye with a trembling hand; terrified of what he'd find beneath the gore. With heart stopping relief, he noted that the bullet had only grazed Michelangelo. It was deep and Donatello could see a bit of the white bone beneath the red. Starting from just above his snout across the inner corner of his left eye, up and just above the eye brow ridge, leaving a deep gushing wound that ended near his temple.

Donatello bent down and kissed the top of Michelangelo's head as he held one of his bloody cheeks with his palm. "Don't ever do that again," Don whispered as he pressed his forehead onto his brother's.

"Did we win?" he asked weakly.

Donatello sat up and flashed his now soft brown eyes to his older brother, "He's okay, Raph. He'll need stitches and probably has a concussion and his skull might have a fracture, but . . . he's okay."

With eyes closed, Raphael blew out a tremulous breath. He shot him a grateful look, then dropped his chin to his chest; closing his eyes again as he was filled with exhausted relief.

Suddenly, Leonardo's cry of fury and anguish cut through the silence of the warehouse. Raphael snapped his head up. Donatello and Raphael exchanged quick glances as Raph came up on one knee, then pushed himself to stand. It didn't sound like he'd been hurt; at least, not on the outside.

"Leo. . ."

Donatello's face snapped towards the door where he heard his brother's cry then back at Raphael. "Raph," he choked out. "Y-You're not going to try to stop him. Are you?"

Raphael's eyes moved down to him. "'Course not," he said without moving his head.

After what he saw during the battle, he knew Leonardo wouldn't let anyone stop him. Not that he'd try. He saw the look on his brother's face in the lair. He saw his older brother lose himself in the melee in a savage way that he'd never seen him do before. He knew Leo would not leave Karai behind, no matter what Splinter had ordered.

Casey appeared next to them then, holding April tightly to his chest, her face buried in his neck.

"Is Mikey, okay?" Casey asked quietly.

Donatello's face shot up. Their eyes locked; blue and brown; one full of regret and fear, the other; only stone-cold hatred.

With effort, Don broke the staring contest to gaze at the woman held in Casey's arms. He couldn't tell if she was unconscious or merely sleeping. Donatello's eyes roved over her body; taking in the torn and filthy pajamas, the streaks of blood; her trembling bare feet.

He pressed back the rage that rose with the bile in the back of his throat. On the edges of his reason, black fury loomed; poisonous and hateful; filled with visions of retribution; all of it aimed at the man before him.  _He should not be touching her right now. He should turn around and run out of here as fast as he could go._  

A tremor went through him. But he suppressed the anger with all the remaining self-control he possessed. Now was not the time.

He forced himself to drop his eyes away and concentrated on being gentler with Mikey, who was squirming and moaning in pain beneath Donatello's shaking fist; pressing into his wound. His body jumped and Mikey turned his head to the side just as he retched and threw up.

"Oh, Mikey, I'm so sorry," Donatello murmured hoarsely to his brother; feeling like jerk for hurting his little brother over his misdirected rage at Casey.

Michelangelo coughed and reached up and patted Donatello's wrapped up wrist with one trembling hand. Carefully, Donatello eased him up and wrapped Michelangelo's arm around his shoulders. He grabbed his brother's hand and wrapped his other arm around his shell. Unsteadily, they rose to stand. Michelangelo groaned and swayed, but Donatello supported him.

"I think . . ." Casey awkwardly dug into his front pocket and produced a pair of keys that he tossed to Raphael, who caught them with one hand. "Leo's gonna need somewhere to go . . . uh, with with, um, Karai. He can use the motel room I've been rentin'. Up on fifty-fourth, near the railroad yards. It's secluded. Safe."

He looked down. "It's the least I can do ta help. Since I got her in this mess in the first place."

Raphael glanced at the keys in his palm then at Casey; confused.

"You're, uh, gonna need to . . . probably, uh, drive 'em. Leo's a little . . . uh, um, well . . . out of it."

Raphael shot a look to the empty doorway that Leonardo went through then gave a curt nod. He got it.

"Don, get Mikey outta here," Raphael said, still staring at the open doorway, thinking. "Casey, take April to the lair. I'll meet up later."

He turned a hard gaze back to Casey, freezing him in his tracks. "Hold up. Uh, Casey . . ." The tone in Raphael's low voice was full of warning, his face dark as he said, "I think it's only fair for me to warn you . . . as your friend. For your own safety - I think you'd better disappear for a few-"

"Days?" Casey offered feebly.

"I was gonna say weeks." Raphael stared at Donatello's shell as he helped walk Michelangelo towards the exit then turned his gaze back to the door where his older brother still remained. Between Donatello's performance earlier when he learned Casey was responsible for April getting involved with Venom and now whatever Leonardo was finding left of Karai, he was sure his friend's life was in serious mortal danger. "But you better make it months.  _Capisce?"_

Casey dropped his head down. The mask on the top of his head staring out at the room with twin black eyes.

"Got it," he said thickly. "For what it's worth," he paused, his eyes squinting; staring at his friend's feet, "I'm really sorry. About everything. See ya in a few months, pal." Not waiting for a response from Raphael, he bobbed his head and turned, hurrying after Donatello.

Raphael strode across the empty expanse of the warehouse that twenty minutes ago was crawling with men and ninjas. Casey's keys jingled loosely in his fist. He wondered at the efficiency of this clan, the Foot usually booked without a second glance at their fallen comrades. He huffed. These people even took the dismembered body parts with them. The only clue that anyone had fought in this space was the blood and the random weapon that lay abandoned and forgotten in their hasty escape.

* * *

Raphael stopped in the doorway, eyes widening as he took in the scene inside the room. His heart began to pound as his eyes drifted over the carnage of the room; then to his brother, kneeling and clutching Karai to his chest, muttering to himself and shaking his head. Casey was right, Leo had really lost it.

Terror rocked him for a moment. But the tremor passed as Raph ground his teeth together and pulled himself away from the yawning abyss in his mind that was fear and panic. This was no time for hysterics. Mikey was wounded, April was saved, but he didn't know how badly she was hurt and Leo needed to be brought back to the land of sanity.

"Leo." Raphael pressed his mouth together. "Get yer ass up. Let's move it. We gotta go. Now."

When his brother made no move or gave no acknowledgement to what Raphael said, he entered the room. His eyes flitted over the remains of the men who were attacking Karai; not really wanting to see, but his mind took in every detail. The scent of copper and fear hung in the air like a heavy malaise. He had to swallow back the bile that rose burning in the back of his throat. 

 _Leo did this? Oh shit_.

He knew his brother was going to have some serious trouble dealing with all this later. But first he had to snap his brother out of this and get him out of here.

He crouched next to his brother and couldn't help but notice her bare, bruised legs and that Leo's shirt was now on Karai. He wondered what Leo had seen as he stormed inside this room. For his brother's sake, he hoped it wasn't too bad, but by the looks of the bodies, he knew it had to have been rough.

He dropped his head down for a moment at a loss for words. He placed a hand on Leonardo's shaking shoulder. In the distance, sirens began to cry. He raised his eyes.

"Time to go."

Leonardo turned to look at him. Anguish filled his eyes. He nodded but then shook his head.

His voice was small and Raphael was unnerved by the sound of it. It seemed so unlike his big brother. Soft and full of despair and almost broken.

"B-But…Raph. I can't . . . I can't . . ." his voice cracked.

"It's okay, bro. I'll help ya."

Leonardo shook his head. "I can't bring her home."

The words were like a shock of ice water to Raphael's face.  _Bring her home?!_

"Master Splinter . . ." He clamped his eyes shut tightly. "I don't know what to do," he whispered.

 _So that's why he's frozen to the spot here._  

Leo thought the only place to take her was the lair, but he knew Splinter would not stand for that and probably disown him for good if he showed up with her. Well, at least he could offer his brother a solution and maybe they could finally get the hell out of this nightmare.

Raphael held his hand up. A set of keys hung from a key ring on the tip of one of Raphael's fingers. He jiggled them, and Leo opened his eyes at the sound. They moved from the keys to his brother. Their eyes met.

"C'mon." He patted Leonardo's shoulder and stood; Leo slowly followed, holding Karai against his chest. "It's gonna be alright, Leo. I've got some place safe where you can take her."

* * *

 


	15. A Matter of Trust

_"To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved." –_ George MacDonald

* * *

 

Michelangelo's breath puffed out in little panting noises as his feet dragged along the rough surface. His knees wobbled and he stumbled over his feet. 

The action forced Donatello to careen to the side, sloshing into the filthy water running through the center of the tunnel. He grimaced, straining, and doing his best not to let any part of his younger brother touch the bacteria laden water.

"Sorry," Mikey slurred, his face hung low as his head bobbed with the jerking motion of moving.

"It's okay. It's okay," Don whispered through gasping breaths.

His brother was heavy and getting heavier with each step he took. Donatello felt the warmth of his brother's blood leeching onto his shoulder; tacky and thick like semi-dried glue. Body aching, throat burning, he shifted Michelangelo's arm that hung over his shoulder and righted them for the tenth time on their way to the lair.

They only took three more steps before Michelangelo's knees buckled and gave out completely. He grunted and went down.

Donatello felt his aching muscles around his neck and shoulders pull as he lurched forward. He tried to hoist his brother back up to his feet but the weight combined with his exhaustion conspired against his efforts. He couldn't do this alone. His brother was just too heavy.

If only he were stronger, like Raphael. His brother had carried them home unconscious on more than one occasion in the past. His strength and endurance were something to be envious of.

"Mikey," he rasped, then louder, "Mikey?"

A bolt of fear went through Donatello as he realized his brother had passed out. Shuffling to the side, Donatello propped him up against one brick wall. He crouched in front of him. Took his pulse. Weak but steady. His purple mask that he had tied over Mikey's eye was a clotted mess of black blood and fresh amounts of it streamed unabated down Michelangelo's cheek; painting one side of his pale face in bright copper-scented gore.

They didn't have time for rest. He had to get his brother home. He wrestled back the panic that rose from the back of his racing mind like a stampede of wild horses.

Casey caught up to them then and crouched; still holding April in his arms. Donatello ignored him until he shifted. With a soft grunt, he ducked his head and dragged April's limp arms, still bound at the wrist, up around and over his head.

Donatello frowned wondering what the man was doing. Her head lulled to one side and a soft moan escaped from her parted lips. He opened his mouth to tell Casey to take it easy with her when Casey spoke.

"Here Donnie, take her. Lemme get Mikey," he said and passed April over into Donatello's fumbling, shocked embrace.

He quickly wrapped his arms under her legs and around her back, cradling her in his arms like an infant. Much lighter than Mikey; it felt  _right_  somehow to hold her against him. She moaned softly again and pressed her cheek into his plastron. Her hair was soft and tickly against his neck and jaw. Her face felt warm against his cool chest. The warmth of it radiated through his body. He couldn't suppress a small shiver that ran through him. A surge of protectiveness hit him and he clutched her tightly but gently.

Donatello stared at Casey, mouth slightly open in confused gratitude, Casey shrugged.

"I can carry 'em on my back."

He rubbed the back of his neck. Then looked up into Donatello's wary eyes with a sheepish expression. He pressed his mouth into a tight line and looked away, disgusted but resigned; shoulders falling down in defeat. When Don didn't move, he said in a clipped voice, while staring at Michelangelo, "Besides, I think she'd want you ta be the one to bring her home, anyway."

Without another word, he shifted; then took Michelangelo's arms over both his shoulders and hoisted him onto his back in a modified piggy-back ride.

Donatello stood. Together they moved on. Like this, they made much better time as they ran the rest of the way to the lair.

Donatello found a new surge of adrenaline course through him as he held April snuggly against him; pressing the side of his jaw against the top of her head. A fresh wave of protectiveness washed through him. And it seemed he couldn't run home fast enough.

* * *

Raphael cracked the door of the motel room open and gave the darkened interior a quick sweeping glance. He pushed open the door and Leonardo hurried in from behind him like a passing shadow. He quickly turned and closed it, peering out the window through the closed curtain.

From the second story, Raph had a good view of the surroundings. He could see why Casey had used this place as his temporary base. Secluded and safe he had said. It fit the first description. He gazed out and scanned for any sign that they were followed. But the motel lot was empty save for two other cars and they were parked at the far end of the motel, nearest to the rooms the owners were renting. Raph had parked Casey's truck just below their room.

The street beyond was quiet. Adjacent to a line of three dark, abandoned, apartment buildings was a scruff of neglected bushes, mess of brambles and small trees in an unused lot that fed into a strip of towering maples that wrapped behind the motel. To the other side, the highway rose from a sloping hill of more overgrown bushes and dead trees. Their empty white branches reached high into the black sky above, scratching at the stars, like the fingers of wraiths reaching in futile desperation for the heavens. Even the highway beyond was quiet at this time of night aside from the occasional eighteen-wheeler that would roar past.

The squeaking of worn bed springs brought his attention back around to the interior of the room. Leonardo had laid Karai onto the twin sized bed in the center of the room. He removed the dagger from his belt above his pants and swiftly cut the leather collar around her neck free with a smooth flick of his wrist. He eased it from around her throat while cradling the back of her head with one hand. He took it in his shaking free hand and flung it across the room where it smacked the wall above the television set and fell behind it.

Gently, he laid her head down against the pillow. Raphael saw him reach out to slide back a lock of hair plastered across her face. His finger lingered but for a moment against her skin before he withdrew. Other than that, Leo didn't touch her. He sank to his knees on the floor next to her.

Raphael moved around the arm chair near the window. He crossed the room, his wide eyes moving from the back of his brother's unmoving head to the wall across from the foot of the bed where he'd flung the collar. He followed the wall to where it turned a corner. It led to a small room, which wasn't much more than an alcove, to the right that served as a kitchen.

There was a small sink full of dirty plates, a cracked mug and utensils. A coffee maker and hot plate sat on the counter next to it. A short refrigerator took up one corner. A twelve pack of beer along with some bags of chips sat on top of it.

Opposite the kitchen was a bathroom. He moved to the doorway; bracing his hands on the splintered frame, he leaned partially into the room. It smelled a mix of antiseptic wash and mold. The wall paper was yellowed and peeling. The door was gone, the hinges looked as though someone had maybe ripped it off the frame at one point. Probably during a rough night for his friend, he mused.

Raphael's eyes noted the stack of clean towels and several boxes next to the toilet under a cracked porcelain sink. He peeked inside an open one and saw it was full of first aid supplies. No doubt Casey went through a lot of this type of stuff. It made sense that the place was fully stocked for medical care.

He pulled out a handful of bandages and leaned against the wall as he applied them to a few of his more shallow cuts on his shoulders, arms and one on his neck. This would do for now. He'd need Don to stitch some of the deeper ones. But most of his wounds had begun to clot so he wasn't leaking blood all over the place.

He glanced in the mirror and sighed. He looked like shit. Quickly, he ran the water in the sink; washed his hands and splashed some of it onto his face. Patting himself dry, he stepped out of the room and tossed the towel back onto the edge of the sink where it caught.

He took a few steps then paused.

Leo hadn't moved from his kneeling position next to Karai. His eyes were locked on her face but he made no move to touch her or speak to her. It was as if he were still in shock or something. Or maybe he was afraid?

He stepped across the thread-bare tan carpet and crouched besides his brother. He noted how Leo had the edge of the blanket bunched in both fists; holding it tightly. His arms rested on the mattress.

His gaze moved to Karai who was still unconscious. Her chest rose and fell beneath the filthy shirt. Most likely sleeping at this point. One hand lay on her stomach, the other next to her hip. His eyes roved over her and besides the dark bruising, he didn't see any wounds that needed immediate attention. The cut at her throat the collar had left had clotted and was no longer bleeding. It was red and bruised and painful looking, though. That would need a bit of attention but could wait until she was awake.

He noted the dark marks and scratches along her legs and as his eyes traveled up, the bruising was larger and more on the inside of her thighs. His gaze stalled at the ragged hem of Leonardo's shirt as it lay just below her hips. He swallowed dryly and wondered if she had been . . . if they had succeeded in . . . he pushed the thought away, deciding he would really rather not know.

But as his eyes wandered back to Leo, still kneeling rigid and unmoving, knuckles light green with the tension of clutching the sheet in his fists, Raph wondered what was going through his brother's mind right then. He wondered how Leo would take it if they had finished what they started with Karai.

Again he wondered what his brother had stumbled into in that room. He remembered the carnage that Leo had left and suppressed a shudder. Those men got everything they deserved, he decided. But would that be enough for Leo if they did succeed in their attack on her?

How would he feel if it was his love on that mattress being assaulted? A grim pool of disgust swirled in the pit of his stomach. He'd want them all dead. Any of them that had a part in this. All of them. Casey popped into his mind and he blinked rapidly, thankful that he'd thought to advise his friend to disappear for a while. He may have to stay away longer though, if the men had actually . . .

His attention was caught by the drip of blood that fell onto the rug. He frowned and realized that his brother was covered in dried blood but also had a few gashes that continuously seeped a slow stream of crimson.

"Leo," he said in a hushed voice and inched nearer to him, "why don't you go get cleaned up."

Leonardo brought his head around but didn't met his eyes.

Raph figured he was reluctant to leave her side. His brother's normally protective nature had been kicked into high gear, he understood. But he had to break his brother out of this unsettling trance. Even if it was only so that Leonardo's wounds could be attended to. That and he needed to get back to check on Mikey.

"Go on, bro. I'll . . . keep watch . . . for anything."

Leo glanced up, their eyes met for a second before they dropped away and returned to their vigil on Karai's still form.

Raph huffed through his nose; shook his head. He stared across the room to the opposite wall, his eyes focusing on a crack at the base of the molding near another arm chair. Probably get mice in here, he thought dimly. Then his gaze traveled up and he noticed for the first time several indentions in the wall where his friend had probably taken out his frustrations with his fists. He understood the feeling.

The look that passed through Leonardo's eyes when he looked at him, though fleeting, was unfair. He looked sideways at Leonardo.

He said more gruffly than he'd meant to, "I . . . I ain't gonna  _hurt_  her or anything, Leo."

Leonardo's face snapped towards him. He met and held his older brother's gaze, frowning but saying softly, "I know I said stuff before, about revenge . . ." Raphael trailed off.

How could he say this? That he'd realized that nothing and no one was going to come between his brother and this girl? Right or Wrong? That he'd known for a long time that what Leo felt for Karai was the real deal? And he had no idea what to make of that. She was the enemy. Or so he'd convinced himself. He wanted to believe that what Don had said was nothing more than additional scheming lies to further trip up his brother.

And yet . . . in the bottom of his heart he knew the truth.

Because of his brother's unrelenting devotion to this woman that he'd only spent a few days with, he knew there had to be more here than lies and deception. And it scared him.

Because what did that mean, in the end? Would Leo leave them for her? Run off and join the Foot so he could be with her? Would Leo really do that?

Once upon a time, he'd know the answer without a doubt. Now . . . well, let's just say he had some serious doubts about his brother's state of mind. There was at least a decent chance that Leo might up and leave them. Maybe not join up with their enemy, but leave just the same. And never come back. If he handled this wrong, as Master Splinter had done, that might very well be what happened next. And the last thing he wanted was to lose his brother.

"Just . . . trust me, okay? I . . . I swear, Leo. She's safe with me."

He broke away from the staring contest. He couldn't take much more of the intensity of his brother's piercing gaze. The wariness and hint of fear just below the scrutiny. He fidgeted, growing impatient. Still getting nowhere with his brother.

Okay, so maybe he'd threatened to murder her if he ever saw her again a few times. But still. That was before. He'd gotten them out of that warehouse and to this safe place in one piece. He huffed through clenched teeth.

Then, inspiration hit him.

With a twinkle of mischief in his eye, he said, "C'mon, look at yourself. You're covered in blood." He paused, careful not to go too far; knowing this could backfire in a bad way and come off as teasing, "You're gonna want to look nice for her when she wakes up." He softly nudged his brother with his elbow in a playful way.

Leonardo blinked and looked down at his blood-stained arms and hands, releasing the now filthy edge of the blanket in a quick motion.

Raphael's mouth turned up in a wry smile and internally he fist pumped at his victory for finally getting through to him. "Go get cleaned up. There's first aid kit's in the bathroom." But when he still made no move Raph added in an exasperated tone, "Look, I'll get ya if she wakes up, okay?"

At that, Leo shifted back hesitantly and with one last look at Karai, stood.

Raphael watched him move to the bathroom. When he heard the water start to trickle, then rush in the shower, he stood, stretched and sat on the arm chair in front of the window. He brought the back of his head to rest on the back of the chair and blew out a long breath.

What a night.

Exhaustion made his body feel twice as heavy as it should. He'd need to tell Leo about Mikey. They needed to get their asses back to the lair and check up on him and April for that matter. But first, he needed to let Leo catch his breath and regroup.

* * *

They rushed into the lair and headed straight for the infirmary. Master Splinter rose from his mediation mat that he had set in the center of the floor as he waited anxiously for his sons' return. As he stood, his back creaked and he grimaced. A sharp pain shot through his chest horizontally, cutting off his breath. He grabbed the arm of the sofa for support. He lowered his head and took a slow deep breath in and then blew it out. The tight pain eased and as quickly as he could, he dashed after them. He noted the absence of two of his sons.

Before he reached the doorway, Casey reentered the living room. Looking shaken and nervous, he ran a hand through his thick dark hair. Some of the bandages on his face had peeled away, leaving the bruised and cut skin from his fight with Donatello earlier exposed.

Master Splinter looked at him expectantly. Waiting with held breath for information.

"Uh, April's okay, I think. Um, but Mikey, was . . . was shot."

Splinter took in the man's words then his face snapped to the room and he scurried quickly around him.

"He's okay, though," Casey called after him.

He stood in the expanse of the empty living room alone. Aside from the sounds of hurried movements coming from the infirmary, the place was quiet. He looked around and sighed. "Guess I'll be seein' ya," he said quietly to no one in particular and marched out of the lair. Knowing it would be the last time he stepped foot in there for a very long time. Swearing that somehow,  _somehow_ , he'd make this up to April. And to Leo, as well; one day.

Splinter found Donatello hovering over Michelangelo's still body on a cot. To the right April lay. He gently ran his hand along the top of her shoulder and listened to her breathing; apparently she was asleep from what he could sense. Donatello glanced over his shoulder as Splinter turned from April and approached and laid a hand on his upper arm.

His voice was only a pained whisper, "Sensei, it looks bad, but he's going to be okay. Just grazed him. He was very lucky. An inch lower and this eye would have been lost. Of course, it could've also penetrated his skull, then he'd really be in trouble. But he's okay. He's going to be fine. I'm guessing he's got a concussion, too. Maybe a fracture. But he's okay. He'll be fine."

The way Donatello continued to rattle off possible injuries and treatment strategies, along with reassuring him over and over that Mikey would be fine, Splinter knew his son was tired and shaken and running primarily on adrenaline at this point. He watched his son in breathless silence. Feeling his heart beat slow but hard inside of his chest. Feeling the ghost of the pain from earlier haunting each throb.

Donatello was cleaning out the wound with a bottle of water, slushing away the dried and clotted blood. Beneath was a deep red gash that made Splinter's stomach clench.

A flash of helplessness was quickly replaced with anger. This should not have happened to his youngest son. Where were his brothers? They had trained so many hours to avoid gun shots fired.

Carefully, Donatello lifted the thick flap of skin and rinsed out more of the dirt and caked blood.

Splinter hissed in a breath at the painful looking gash. The pink and brown liquid poured over Michelangelo's cheek and was caught and soaked up by a balled up towel. Splinter reached out and replaced it with a clean one.

"Can you tell me how this happened?"

Donatello's eyes shot sideways then refocused on what he was doing with the antiseptic wipes.

"Uh, well. B-Basically, he . . . he jumped in front of a bullet for me," he rasped.

"You did not see this attack?"

Donatello shook his head.  _I was distracted._  He should have said, but couldn't. This shouldn't have happened. If they'd focused on formation and defense, as they'd practiced over and over in their training, no one should have been caught off guard. He shouldn't have been. And Michelangelo paid for his lack of focus.

"Where were your other brothers at this time?"

_They were busy. And distracted as well._

"Uhhhmmmm…"

He began to stitch the wound and needed to focus.

Michelangelo groaned as the needle pierced his flesh. His body jumped and Donatello tried to work faster. This would be easier if his brother stayed unconscious for this part. If he woke up he'd no doubt squirm and tremble. Mikey was never one to sit still even for something as simple as a vaccine shot.

He decided to avoid Splinter's question. "Could you please un-untie April's wrists, Sensei?"

Master Splinter turned, fully grasping his son's diversion and took a scalpel from the pile of tools on the small metal table. He moved to April and carefully set her hands free. Tenderly he removed the remaining bits of tape. He then pulled the white cotton blanket up over her to her chin. He caressed her forehead, brushing the bangs from her face.

Her eyes fluttered open with the action. At first her eyes widened and darted about, but then realizing where she was she relaxed. She smiled weakly up at Splinter who gazed down at her with warm amber eyes.

"Do not fear. You are safe now. I'm so sorry you had to endure this, Ms. O'Neil. But I am greatly relieved that you have been returned to us safely."

Donatello turned, the bloody needle held between thumb and finger. "Is she awake?" he asked hopefully in a whispery voice.

"Where's . . . Casey?" she asked.

Donatello stiffened.

Her question was like a slap. His stinging eyes dropped to the floor. He turned his face to one side a little; keeping his eyes lowered.

Michelangelo groaned and raised his hand to touch the side of his face. Donatello turned back around and quickly blocked his brother's hand. His heartbreaking pain forgotten for the moment. "Hold on. Don't touch, Mikey. Not yet. Let me finish, okay?" Each word scraped against his hurting throat. His fractured heart slammed against his chest but his hand remained steady.

"Ooowww," Michelangelo moaned, scrunching up his face and gritting his teeth.

Mikey turned his face away to the wall; trying to avoid any more pain like a child closing his eyes against something frightening. Tenderly, with one finger, Donatello turned his face back towards him. A single tear escaped and rolled down Mikey's cheek.

Don's heart constricted. Mikey was being very brave for all the pain he was sure his brother was in.

"Just two more. No, hold still. Almost. Doin' good, bro. Okay, got it. Here comes the bandage."

Splinter turned back to April and said, "Casey has left. I am sure he will return with my sons later. If you wish to speak to him you will have the opportunity then. You should rest now."

"It's okay. I-I want to sit up." She pulled the blanket together with both her hands as she scooted until her back rested against the bricks. She braced her arm across her stomach and rested her elbow on it; cradling her forehead with her index finger and thumb. She blinked, staring at her raised knees beneath the blanket. "I just…didn't have a chance to thank him."

Catching Donatello's body flinch and go rigid at her words, Splinter moved to leave. "Some herbal tea will be just the thing to help us  _all_  be calm," he said pointedly to Donatello's shell as he left.

"I feel like crap," Mikey croaked as Donatello finished wrapping his head with stiff motions. "Aw, man. Am I gonna have to wear an eye-patch? Well, I guess being a pirate wouldn't be such a bad thing. I mean, eye-patches are sexy, right? That guy on the soap opera has one. So does the head dude of S.H.E.I.L.D."

If he hadn't been so rankled by what April had just said, Donatello would've been impressed at his little brother's ability to bounce back from writhing in pain to being playful. But then again, that was just Michelangelo being himself. Ever resilient. The light within him never dimed for too long before shining brightly once more.

"So, what's the verdict doc? Sexy eye-patch or . . ." His face brighten slightly, "are you gonna build me a cool robotic eye like the Terminator?"

"No, Mikey."

Donatello chuckled despite his internal churning mess of emotions at April's words. He took in a breath and collected himself; hands braced along the edge of Mikey's cot. He was relieved to hear his brother speaking more like himself.

He helped Mikey sit up; keeping his shell to April; not wanting to look at her. His throat ached and burned every time he spoke, but he ignored the pain and explained in his quiet, hoarse voice, "Sorry, but no eye-patch for you. It's just how the bandage has to sit for now so it stays put. Your eye is fine. I'm going to give you something for the pain but I don't want you to sleep for a while? Can you just sit on the couch and chill for a few hours?"

Mikey nodded. Tenderly, he fingered the bandage that wrapped around the side of his face. He grimaced. His legs hung over the side of the cot. He spotted April over Donatello's shoulder and smiled.

"Hey, there you are. You okay?"

She shrugged and nodded a little. Her voice trembled at the edges but for the most part was steady, "Yeah, I guess. It could be worse. But I was going to ask you that same question. What happened, Mikey?"

"Nothing except your average act of chivalrous bravery and selfless sacrifice for my best bud here."

Donatello released another breathy chuckle and helped him off the cot.

Still not turning in April's direction. Still avoiding looking at her. He couldn't handle meeting her eyes right now. Not when he was feeling this much anger and disappointment in her. So much so that he could barely accept it himself. He never felt angry at her like this before. But it was too much. This night. Everything that happened because her ex was such an imbecilic fool. His involvement with Venom had put her life in danger. Her safety had merely been an afterthought only  _after_  she was kidnapped.

The fact that she wanted to thank him for her rescue made him physically ill. He couldn't risk even a glance in her direction.

But he knew he'd have to address her injuries. Angry at her or not. Don trembled as he stepped towards the door with Mikey leaning on him. He had to do it; he had no choice. He'd just have to stay clinical and do his duty as resident paramedic of the family.

"C'mon, Ser Mikey, let's get you to the couch." He paused just inside the door. His head shifted to one side. Without looking at her he said quietly to the floor, "Be right back."

Splinter crossed the room to where Donatello eased his little brother onto the sofa. He handed Michelangelo and Donatello a mug of tea and sat on the arm chair next to the couch.

"Donatello, after you attend to Ms. O'Neil's wounds, I would like to know what happened as well as the whereabouts of your older brothers. I assume they are not hurt otherwise you'd be more concerned."

"Yes, Sensei. Er, no, they're not. Uh," he rubbed the back of his head.

Then stared into the mug as he held it in both hands. There was the matter of where April would stay while she healed. Although he was angry and hurt with her at the moment, his logical side knew he had to address the situation with his Sensei.

"Since April's apartment was, um, compromised, she's going to need to . . . we thought that maybe . . . it would be best . . . if she could stay with us?" He added quickly, though every word cost him, "Just until she finds a new apartment. Shouldn't take long. She can stay in the spare room. If-If that's okay with you, Sensei."

"And Mr. Jones?"

Donatello clenched his jaw; felt his stomach flip and sink. A bitter tasted flooded his mouth. "I don't think . . ."

 _What? That she'd want to stay with him? Please. Wasn't she looking for him as soon as she woke up? Her hero in a hockey mask? Maybe they deserve each other,_ he thought bitterly.

That would be the most ironic thing that he'd ever lived through. Sending her back into that moron's arms. Donatello stared at the floor between his feet. The mug of tea seared into his palms but he barely registered it.

"His apartment isn't safe either," he was surprised that he managed to speak in such an even tone.

"Hm," was all the reply Splinter gave to him.

Donatello's jaw clenched and unclenched.

He should insist that she go stay with Casey. He'd march back into his infirmary and order her from his lab, from his home, from his sight. At least, in the brave seclusion of his hurt and angry imagination, he pictured that's how he'd handle the situation.  _No, it wouldn't go down like that._

His heart hammered and he felt the sinking pull of loss at the thought of sending her into Casey's arms; the desperate haunted desire to keep her safe; keep her close to him, even if for just a little while. He felt the back of his neck heat up. More like he'd be on his knees groveling for her to stay just one more day, one more hour, one more minute.

He unsuccessfully tried to swallow the lump that formed in his throbbing, burning throat. Misery wrestled with self-loathing within him, and despair was the referee.

_I'm such a fool. I'll always be a fool._

Splinter watched the warring emotions in his child's eyes. It hurt him to see Donatello this way. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking.

He remembered April's confession, of wanting to  _fix_  things between her and Donatello. Apparently, she decided that his son was finally good enough to attain her affections. He huffed through his nose.

He certainly did not want to do anything that would encourage a relationship that he was certain would end with his intelligent and sensitive son being crushed. He wanted to save Donatello from this unnecessary pain. He must tread carefully. He did not want to repeat the mistakes he'd made when dealing with his eldest son in regards to matters of the heart.

The worry and stress squeezed at him. The pain he felt earlier came again. This time distant and less intense but still no less troubling.

His mind went to the other son that he worried deeply for. He was sure that Leonardo had overcome his foolish obsession with that traitorous kunoichi. If Leonardo had disobeyed his order to leave Karai to her fate, which he was certain he had done, that would need to be addressed as well.

Master Splinter had to protect his small family. In all the world, they only had each other. He needed someone to watch over them and keep them safe when his time was done here. His hand went to his chest and he rubbed it as he continued to think.

He didn't have much time to spare to make things right within their little family. He had to put things into motion to save his son from himself it seemed. An idea had taken shape shortly after they had left to rescue April. What he had in mind he could not do alone. He needed April's help.

He shifted in his seat and lowered his head. Yes, there was also the advantage that if she were under his roof he could keep a close eye on both Donatello and her, and squash anything unseemly that may take root between them.

Besides all of that, they bore some responsibility of this attack on her. It was in part, her connection to them that put her at risk in the first place. Though Donatello felt the blame lay solely with the young vigilante. The truth was as long as she was part of their lives, she would be at risk. Something he would speak to his son about and make perfectly clear to him once everyone was home safe and settled.

He opened his eyes. His decision was clear. "Considering the circumstances of her living arrangement as well as everything she's endured . . . yes. I think it would be wise that she stay with us for some time."

Donatello blinked once and the shocked look on his face was enough to almost make Splinter smile. His son's innocent joy replacing all other conflicting emotions within his eyes at the news bothered him deeply.

"Th-Thank you, Sensei."

He bowed and then put the mug of tea on the coffee table. He swiftly crossed the room to the infirmary once more.

* * *

Raph sat in the chair, half-asleep when he heard the shower water turn off.

Minutes later, Leonardo emerged from the bathroom, looking much improved from when he'd entered. Band-aids and medical tape marked his shoulders and arms and one cheek.

Raphael sat up. He hadn't seen Leo without clothes in such a long time, it was almost strange to him. As he moved from the bathroom and into the main room, the scars on his legs stood out; some of them long and raised, crisscrossing along the tops of his thighs; others just lighter green lines that traced the path of the stinging lashes he endured.

Raphael swallowed dryly and pressed his mouth into a tight line. He had to push away the familiar anger that rose up within him that was directed at the woman lying on the bed so close. His brother crossed the room to the side of the bed opposite from where Raphael sat; face darting from Karai to Raph.

"Nothing yet. She's sleeping, though. I can tell by the way she's been breathin'."

Leonardo stepped back and collapsed into another armchair on the other side of the bed. He dropped his head into his hands and sighed deeply.

"Leo, we gotta get back."

Leonardo raised his head.

"Mikey was shot."

At that Leo jumped to his feet.  _"What?! When? How?"_

Raphael stood up. "He-He jumped in front of a bullet that was aimed for Don's head. It happened when you went runnin' off to . . ." he cut himself off as Leonardo's eyes widened and darted to Karai then back to Raphael. A twisted look of shame and guilt suddenly washed over his brother's expression, painting his face a sick shade of gray.

"Leo," he raised his hands up defensively, "there was no way you could've stopped it even if you stayed out there." He pointed to Karai. "And-And she needed you, too."

Leonardo shook his head and made a strangled sound as he hurried over to the door to leave. He hesitated and looked lost again for a moment as his eyes darted back to Karai. They held a look of a hunted animal.

"Leo –"

"Stay here."

"W-What?" he stuttered.

"I have to check on Mikey. I should've never left . . ."  _with her,_ his mind finished.  _I should have stayed with my brothers. Protected them._

His face crushed into a deep frown. His hand trembled on the doorknob.

Raphael could see his brother being torn in two before his very eyes. It scared him and worried him like nothing he ever felt before. Going up against that elite was easier than witnessing his brother be ripped to pieces from the inside out. He wanted to rescue his brother from this torment but didn't have a clue as to what the hell to do.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said thickly.

"B-But  _I_  can go, Leo. You…You should stay here 'n case she wakes up."

Leonardo only shook his head sharply. He raised his eyes and they locked with Raphael's. "No. I need you here," he stately firmly. His eyes broke free and fell back to the woman on the bed. "I need you to keep her safe." His throat worked then he turned his face back to his stunned brother.

"I trust you, Raph."

Raphael blinked rapidly and nodded. "I won't let nothin' happen to her. I swear, Leo."

Leonardo reached out and squeezed his brother's shoulder, then with one last long glance over his shoulder at his love, he opened the door and slipped into the gray shadows of the oncoming dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? Just THANK YOU! so much for all the support and reviews. I seriously love hearing from you. xo (Can you believe April!? grrrr. When characters take control of the story, sometimes even I wonder what the hell is going through their minds) XD


	16. Choices

_"What I am to you – is not real_

_What I am to you – you do not need_

_What I am to you – is not what you mean to me." – Volcano_ by Damien Rice

* * *

 

April sat up on the cot, her eyes trailing over the medical equipment that lay scattered on the small medical table that was set next to the other cot. Her face turned towards the door as it opened. Donatello stepped inside. His eyes flashed to her then dropped to the floor.

He approached her, keeping his eyes down. Slowly, so slowly he raised his eyes to her.

She smiled and watched as his eyes traveled over her face, taking in the expression. He seemed apprehensive, or maybe sad, she wasn't sure. Then she remembered the last time they'd spoken was the night she threw him out of her apartment. Her heart sped up. She licked her lips. And went to say something.

Donatello noticed that she was going to say something, but he stopped her by taking either side of her jaw in his fingertips; barely touching her. He tilted her head one way then another, taking in her blackened eye, the bruise above it on her temple, the cut on her bottom lip. 

 _This is all his fault!_  

A tremor went through him. He pushed back at the swelling tide of anger. _Have to stay calm._ Their eyes met but he dropped them quickly away. Slowly, April raised her hands and just as her fingers brushed the skin of his hands he jerked away. He held his hands close to his chest; squeezing the fingers of one hand with the other.

"Don, I –"

He turned swiftly away from her and crossed the room. He took a deep breath and blew it out. "Let me get you something for that cut on your lip," he said in a clipped tone. His voice was hoarse and painfully gritty.

"Okay, thanks."

"Master Splinter says you can stay here for a while." He paused as he rummaged around the first aid supplies. He came back with a long cotton swab and a small jar of ointment. He crouched down next to her cot. He dabbed one end of the swab into the white cream and raised it up to her bottom lip where there was a small cut. The blood had clotted and the lip was purple and slightly swollen.

Their eyes met.

"I mean only…if-if you wanted to," he said, then quickly added, "It's the safest place for you right now."

April reached up to take his wrist in her hand. He froze. A flash of panic swept through his eyes as they widened just a little. April's green eyes roved over him and stalled at his throat. She wondered about the bruising around the front of his neck.  _Could that have been from rescuing me?_  Gently, she released his wrist and with her fingertips brushed the side of his throat.

"What happened Donnie?"

He shrugged back and away from her touch; ignoring the question. Then said quickly, "I'll get you some ice for your eye." He moved to turn away again but April grabbed at and held his wrist tightly. He flinched and stayed put. It was still raw from the abuse the already injured joint had sustained from the fight with Casey and those ninjas.

Despite his apparent discomfort, she held tight. She could tell he was trying his best to avoid her and she'd had enough. "Don," she said firmly. "My eye can wait."

He kept his face towards the wall at the foot of the cot. Not looking at her. Okay, was he mad at her? She noticed again how much trouble he was taking in avoiding making eye contact. This had to be from the other night when they'd had that fight in her apartment. She understood that he'd be upset, angry even, but it hurt, nonetheless.

"Uh, of course. Are you…do you have anything that you need me…to look at? Abrasions, sprains, broken bones, anything like that?" he asked the wall and the tone was detached and cool.

"Donnie, won't you look at me?"

 _Dammit_ , he thought.

He closed his eyes and held his breath. He straightened and turned his face slowly around to her; his expression was that of mild interest; eyes flat; until they rose up and met hers, then she saw his emotions churning beneath the surface. She released his wrist and it fell to the edge of the cot where one his finger and thumb picked at the cuticle of the thumb on the other hand, nervously and unconsciously. Something she'd often see him do when anxious. Looking at him, she could see the apprehension, fear and anger he was trying to mask; see it and feel it coming off him in waves.

_Was this all because of that night? Could he still be so angry with me?_

"If this is about the other night . . ."

A wavering smile spread across his face. One that didn't meet his sad deep eyes.

"Oh, th- _that_?" He chuckled; an empty sound to fill the space between them to accompany the quick lie. "I…I'm really sorry about th-that. B-But no. I hope you know th…that was just a . . . a misunderstanding." His throat caught a little on the last word and he croaked it out.

He tried to wave his hand in the air dismissively; shaking his head; but the act was a poor one. She opened her mouth to press the issue but he didn't want to talk about that night. Didn't want to revisit the horrendous mistake he made when he tried to kiss her. His heart constricted with the memory and he blanked it out in his mind. He couldn't think about that now, not with her right here, so close. Besides there were more important matters to focus on at the moment.

"But really, April," he went on quickly before she could say anything more about that night, "Is there anything . . . anything you need me to-to check on? I d-don't know what they…if you need…d-do you want to t-talk about it?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "Nothing really to get into. Just roughed me up a bit, the jerks. Nothin' too bad." She let out a breathy chuckle, "Scared me a lot, though."

He felt himself soften to her, the anger receding as he considered her amazing strength of will. A lesser woman would be on the floor; a puddle of raw nerves and hysterics. Not this woman before him. Her bravery and stubborn will was something to be admired. And god help him, he only loved her more for it.

She was a source of utter amazement at every turn; full of mysteries and surprises. And yet, he felt the raw need to protect her. He wanted to hold her then, so badly. Pull her into his arms and promise her that she'd never go through anything like that ever again, so long as he had breath in his lungs. He'd protect her. Forever.

The earnest promise was on his tongue, slipping forward to his lips, when suddenly her eyes widened and she gasped.

Donatello grabbed her gently but firmly by her upper arms. Her hands held onto the sides of his shoulders. "What's wrong? What is it? What did they…?"

Fear spiked through his heart as his mind filled with terrible imagined images of the attack that she'd kept from him. What did they do to her that she was afraid to tell him? His heart hammered as he waited for an answer. In a dark corner of his mind, he knew that he'd kill Casey if he ever saw the man again. Slowly.

She shook her head and sucked on her bottom lip; it trembled as she asked in a whisper, "Oh my god. Karai." She covered her mouth with one hand. "They were going to…because of something her father…I mean, Shredder did…to someone. The woman's brother. It was about revenge."

"Don," her bright green eyes were intense when she stared into his, "she didn't have anything to do with what happened with Leo." Her face crushed into a deep frown, her fingers gripped his arms tightly. "They had . . . on the computer. I-I saw a recording…of Karai and Leo… _together_."

Donatello blinked. He knew that Karai had nothing to do with what happened to Leo, but what April was telling him now was something he didn't know.

"What…What do you . . . ?" he whispered; terrified to hear; but needing to know, regardless of his fear.

April's mouth hung open for a moment before she went on. When she did, her voice was soft and she spoke slowly. "It was a video of them…someone hidden had recorded it. It was them b-being  _together_."

She raised her eyebrows, hoping he'd understand what she was getting at. At Donatello's continued baffled gaze, April huffed through her nose. For a genius, sometimes the guy was sort of slow. "Having sex."

Donatello flinched and dropped onto his knees on the floor where he crouched. _"What?"_ was all he could manage to mutter.

"They have it all on a video. They were tormenting Karai with it. They said awful things about her being with him. That's when I knew she really loves him, Donnie. Her face…after the video ended…how she looked when they were mocking and sneering at her for being with him . . . oh god, it was real, Don.  _Real_. She  _loves_  him."

They sat in stunned silence as Donatello processed what she just said. Somewhere out there was a recording of Leo being intimate with Karai. An infuriated rage swept through him. Can't he or his brothers ever have anything good for themselves without it being tainted or twisted? The private time his older brother spent with his love should be between him and Karai and not used as some sick weapon.

His head spun with the implications. How many people have seen it? Leo probably had no idea. If he found out about this, he'd be humiliated and crushed. If Master Splinter found out about this . . . His stomach clenched with dread. No. He wouldn't let that happen. Besides Leonardo's humiliation, they were all in danger as long as this video existed.

He could fix this. He would fix it. For Leo. He owed him for keeping Karai's plea a secret. But first, he'd need to try to find it and then somehow destroy it. His mind raced as the wheels turned. A virus. Some kind of virus. But first he'd need to write the virus then find the video and attach it so that whenever anyone went to open it, it would self-destruct and erase itself.

April spoke, breaking the silence and bringing Donatello's attention back, "Donnie, what happened to Karai? They didn't…"

"I-I don't know. But Leo got to her. What happened . . . I-I couldn't say. I didn't see her…after."

"Leo got to her? But, I didn't see him."

"It was just after Casey-" his voice caught at the name and he looked away, releasing his hold on her arms. Her hands slowly trailed along the sides of his arms. She blinked and then, remembered suddenly the first words out of her mouth.

"After Casey saved me." She said and lowered her chin while she raised her eye brows.

 _I tried to get to you first._  He wanted to say, but the words died in his throat. They sounded feeble even in his mind.  _I tried…but failed._  

The reason why didn't matter. It just didn't matter. Because to April, Casey saved her. Casey was the reason she was there. But  _he_  was supposed to rescue her.  _He_  failed to reach her in time. If he was a better fighter, it may have been different. But the fact remained. He wasn't as good as his brothers. Not even as good as Casey, he thought bitterly. What if they had done more to her? He clamped his eyes shut. Casey got to her first. Not him. Nothing he could do would ever change that.

Donatello nodded and turned his face away, hiding the burning tears as they built. All of this was too much. He was tired. He hadn't slept. The fight with Casey…the battle…the fear…and now this news about the video. He felt the room spinning.

"Listen, I didn't mean…" she reached out to him and he stood up.

"I-I have to check on Mikey now," he lied in a thick voice. "And I have to work on getting something made up to destroy that video." He paused and added, "I'll get you that ice and something for the pain."

"Don. Donnie," she pleaded, but the door closed against her pleas with a snap. She dropped her head and ran her hands through her hair from her bangs to the back of her head. She sighed. She promised herself she'd do better with him but so far, she didn't think she'd done very well at all. Well, she wasn't about to give up just yet.

The door reopened and her face snapped up. "Donnie?" she asked hopefully.

But Master Splinter entered the room. A small bag of ice in his hands. He gave it to her and she smiled her thanks.

"Ms. O'Neil. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," she answered, staring at the door beyond Splinter's shoulder; still wishing it was Donatello that had come back inside the room.

He nodded and crossed his hands on top of one another on the edge of the cot. "I was hoping you were well. Aside from some bruises, you are unharmed?" She nodded and he smiled. "I hope you will be comfortable while you stay with us."

"Yes, thank you for that, Master Splinter. I really appreciate everything you and the guys have done for me."

"It is nothing. But…there  _is_  something I need help with."

"Oh?" she asked, completely thrown off guard.

"I need your help once again with ordering something. It is a bit expensive, I'm afraid. But it is something I believe I can order…on the world wide web."

"Online? Well, sure. Master Splinter whatever you need. Please, don't worry about the cost. I told you that whenever you need anything special, I'd be happy to help."

"It is a private matter. I trust I can depend on your discretion."

She frowned.

"It will make sense when you place the order for me. I will explain then. All I ask is that you keep this purchase between you and I for now."

An uneasiness pooled in her stomach. But she trusted Master Splinter more than anyone. She blinked and nodded. He patted her hand and turned towards the computer in the infirmary.

"Shall we?"

* * *

Raphael paced back and forth in the small room; stretching his shoulders and arms. They felt tight after the battle and sore. Leonardo had been gone little more than twenty minutes and he already felt restless and anxious. He really wished Leo let him go check on Mikey instead of putting him in charge of babysitting his girlfriend.

As he paced, every few seconds he'd glance at the woman on the bed. Still she slept. Looking at her too long made him conscious of the exhaustion pulling at his body.

Long shafts of light slipped from between the openings in the curtain and fell over her face and body. Dust motes spun lazily in the shafts. Eyelids feeling heavy, he stopped pacing and stood at the edge of the bed; he swayed a little on his feet. His eyes trailed over the petite woman. They stopped and studied her face.

He'd never really noticed before, but she was sort of pretty. Even with the bruises marring her features, he could see why Leo was attracted to her in the first place. What she saw in his brother, he had no idea. He still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that she never betrayed Leo and that the whole thing was for real. Inadvertently, he remembered the fact Leo and she had…had…

He felt the back of his neck heat up and suddenly felt awkward for looking at her while she slept.

He huffed and looked away; crossed his arms over his chest, then dropped them to his sides and continued his nervous pacing. That bonehead should've never pursued any feelings or…or urges he had for her to begin with. She was the enemy. No matter how cute. Leo was an idiot for getting involved with her.

He slumped in the chair nearest to the kitchen and scratched the side of his jaw. He glanced at the small digital clock on the night stand next to the bed and sighed; feel more agitated and irritated than before. He wondered how long Leo would be and what Master Splinter was going to say to him. He really hoped it wasn't too long before he was relieved of this awkward duty.

Karai moaned and his attention focused immediately on her. He stood up and approached the bed. She stretched and shifted to her side. Her back to him. Leo's shirt hitched up a little onto her hip and Raphael quickly covered his eyes with one hand. He took the edge of the blanket in his other hand and tossed it gently over her bare legs before he saw anything he didn't need to.

"Mmmm. Wha…?"

He started. She was awake. An irrational urge to run from the room and hide washed through him. He stood with his arms out to the side, palms down. He suddenly didn't know what to do.

Karai rose up on an elbow. He watched as her head moved around. Then she bolted upright. Her face shot around until it fell on him. He felt like a burglar caught in some unseemly act. She stared at him and started to shake.

"Uh, easy, there, Karai." He moved slowly around to the foot of the bed; hands out.

She stood up on the bed and Raphael leaned back; mouth open. In a quick motion she jumped down and ran to the front door. She grabbed at the knob and furiously began to yank and twist it. The door wouldn't open.

"Hey, hey!" Raph came up behind her. "Take it easy."

She snarled and threw her elbow into his abdomen. He doubled over as she darted around him. He gasped and narrowed his eyes. He watched her race into the kitchen then into the bathroom only to come dashing out again into the main room. Panting, her eyes darted all around the room. They were frantic and full of terror. She grabbed the shirt at her stomach and clenched the fabric in her fist. Raphael felt his anger abate at her expression.

This woman was a fighter. But she had been put through the wringer and he had no idea what she'd endured.

Hands held out, he took one step towards her. "You're okay, now. No one's gonna hurt ya. You're safe."

Her eyes flashed to him and she stood trembling; looking lost and clutching the fabric of her shirt. Her knuckles were white. She released the shirt and pointed at him.

"Stay away from me, Red," she said from between clenched teeth.

He stopped and watched her standing there shaking and gritting her teeth. More than ever he wished Leo had stayed to deal with this. He had no idea what to do now. He took a step back, and then eased himself down into the armchair near the window; keeping his eyes locked on her the entire time.

"No one's gonna hurt ya," he repeated in what he hoped was a calming tone. God, anyone could've sounded more convincing than him.

She looked down at herself and brought her arms up to cover herself; hands gripping her shoulders. She shot him an accusing look that made him uncomfortable. He couldn't stop the heat from rising in his cheeks at her silent accusation.

"I…I…" he stammered and then clamped his mouth shut. A flash of anger replaced the nervousness coiling in his stomach. "Don't look at me like that," he snapped.

Karai stood where she was, trembling and furious. "Have you brought me here…to kill me?" Her chin jutted out defiantly. "I'm not gonna make it easy for you," she snarled.

 _I bet you wouldn't._  He had to hand it to her, the girl had guts. He slapped the arms of the chair in frustration.

"Jesus, girlie. Will you just relax? How many times do I have ta repeat myself? No one's gonna hurt ya."

Her expression changed to something like reluctant relief and she took a step forward towards the bed but her knees buckled and she started to fall. Raph was out of his seat in a second, catching her in his arms as she folded forward. He fell to his knees as he caught her.

Karai's skin was soft and warm against his hands and arms. Her head fell against his shoulder. He felt her breath ghost across his throat and unbidden, warmth coursed through him.

"Uh…"

She reached up and slid her arms around his neck then and he stiffened. He held his hands up in a surrendering position from under her arms.

"I…uh…"

He felt her impossibly soft body press against him as she rested between his bent knees. His breath hitched as his body became painfully aware of every curve pressed against him; her bare legs against the inside of his thighs. He felt his heart start to hammer as his mind blanked. She nuzzled into the side of his neck beneath his jaw. His eyelids fluttered closed as her distinctly feminine scent flowed over him. It cut through the smell of the blood and dirt. It intoxicated him and made his head spin.

A voice whispered in the back of his mind that here was a woman who'd accepted them; who wasn't repelled by their outward appearances. A deep and hidden pool stirred in the base of his stomach. A cocktail of loneliness and aching hunger mixed within him. The room spun as his mind whirled.

A desire that he'd beaten back so many,  _many_  , times due to the impossibility of it, rose up inside him. There was no way any human girl would want to be with any of them,  _ever_ , like that, he argued feebly against the deepening tide of need. But…she had. She'd been intimate with one of them, the traitorous voice whispered. Willingly. Karai had gone all the way with his brother. Leonardo.

His body went rigid at the thought of his brother. No. This was wrong. So wrong. He felt like he was drowning suddenly. Raphael fought back the overwhelming need sweeping through him. He would  _never_  betray his brother. Not like this. Never. But he needed to get some space between him and her body,  _right now_.

He took her shoulders in his hands but stopped as he felt the warm wetness of her tears on the side of his throat. Her sobs cut through the thick fog of his churning, confused emotions. Shame branded him a fool as he became aware of her murmuring something over and over.

"Where is my Leonardo? I need him. I need him."

With a shuddering breath, he gently held her and said, "He'll be here soon. Karai. Really soon."

A broken sob escaped her and then she took in a steadying breath, once quickly; then again slowly. She pulled away slightly from him and he stared into her tear-streaked face as she gazed into his eyes. His heart still thundered within him. He felt like he'd just walked through the center of a raging hurricane. Exhaustion made his limbs feel like sacks of wet sand.

She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of one of her hands. "Sorry about that." She wiped away at the wetness on his neck and sat back on her heels and stared at her hands on her lap; then closed her eyes.

"S'okay," he croaked. He cleared his throat and pushed against the floor to stand. He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. He took a step away from her and rubbed the back of his neck.

"There's, uh, a sh-shower in the bathroom. If you want to get cleaned up, there's some first aid stuff in there, too. That cut at your neck probably could use some lookin' at."

She felt with the tips of her fingers and nodded with a weak smile.

"I found some clothes that you can wear. Uh, probably won't fit. They belong to a friend of mine. Uh, but they're clean for the most part."

She turned and moved towards the bathroom. She stopped just outside the door frame. She turned to see him still standing there.

"Thank you, Re- Raphael."

He gave her a short nod and braced his fingers and thumbs on his hips.

As the water turned on, he collapsed onto the edge of the bed. The springs squealed in protest. He ran his hands roughly over his face. 

_What the hell was I thinkin'?_

He huffed. No wonder Leo couldn't stay away from this girl. The feel of her body came back to him. Her scent. He shoved the memory away. 

 _God dammit._  He let out a shaky breath.  _What kind of weakling am I?_   The second he thought someone was comin' on to him he nearly lost his head. And she wasn't even doing that. Besides all that it was his brother's girl; that he even had a moment of weakness made him sick. 

_That ain't ever happenin' again._

He braced his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead against the heels of both of his hands.

For the first time, he felt like he really understood what it was like for Leo when she was flirting with him all those times. If some girl, especially one as hot as Karai, was coming on to him like that he'd probably do exactly what Leo had done. 

 _Yeah,_   _fall head over heels and get myself into a world of shit._  He breathed out an ironic laugh. He and Leo were more alike than he ever realized.

He glanced over his shoulder at the clock again and sighed. 

_Hurry up, bro._

* * *

Leonardo burst into the lair, out of breath. Immediately, spotted his youngest brother sitting on their worn couch. He crossed the room and crouched in front of Michelangelo.

"Mikey, thank god. I . . . What happened?" he asked as he took in the bandages on his brother's face that took up nearly half of his head.

Michelangelo smiled at him. His good eye blinked. "Hey, bro. Uh, I saw a woman aiming a gun at Donnie from the second story balcony and I sort of . . . stopped him from getting shot with my face."

Leonardo stared at his brother. He reached out and took Michelangelo's hand and held it firmly between both of his.

"I am so sorry. I should have planned our attack strategy better."

Michelangelo shook his head. But Leo ignored him.

"I should have expected and planned for guns. I'm sorry."

"Bro, I'm fine. So is Donnie and April." Mikey leaned forward and glanced over his shoulder. "How's Karai?" he asked quietly.

Leonardo blinked, mouth open. He closed it and looked at the floor. Mikey could see the shame and guilt on his brother's face and it made him angry.

"C'mon, Leo. It ain't a sin that you love her. Is she okay? I mean, they didn't do anything bad to her, did they?"

Mikey felt the waves of conflicting emotions wash over his brother. He blinked, feeling afraid for his brother's girlfriend and for Leonardo.

"I…I don't think…b-but I don't know. She was still…"

The sound of Master Splinter clearing his throat stopped Leonardo's sentence. He stiffened and stood up abruptly. Michelangelo turned and Master Splinter put a claw on his arm.

"Finish your tea, my son."

He turned to Leonardo. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment.

Michelangelo felt the fear, the unease, the anger, and the room buzzed with the tension. He shifted, feeling his head begin to pound. It was with much relief when Splinter told Leo to come into his room with him. The tension followed them out of the room. But with a worried stomach, he watched them go.

Donatello appeared next to Mikey then.

"Leo's back," Mikey told him.

Donatello nodded as he watched his father and brother go into their Sensei's room.

"I think he knows that Leo saved Karai," Mikey said.

Donatello nodded again.

"Do you think he's mad?"

They exchanged glances. Then they both stared at the sliding doors leading to their father's room without speaking.

* * *

Leonardo knelt on the mat. He kept his head lowered, but watched with wary eyes as his Sensei moved around to stand in front of him. To his surprise he folded his legs and sat opposite from him. Blue eyes locked with amber. Short and long candles flickered around them. Shadows writhed across the floor and walls.

"Michelangelo's injury could have been avoided. As I am sure you are aware."

Leonardo nodded once, slowly. "Yes, Sensei. I should…should have…"

Splinter raised a hand stopping him. "You promised me that you would never allow your brothers to be put in harm's way."

Leonardo's face shot up.

"You swore that they would be kept safe. And yet, Donatello was nearly shot. Michelangelo took a bullet to his face. To his face, Leonardo. He could have very nearly died."

Leo flinched. Guilt coiled into a tight knot in his stomach.

"And where were you?"

He let the question hang in the air.

Splinter sighed deeply. "I can see it, Leonardo. Rushing to the aid of a known enemy while your brothers fought for their lives. Simply because that person is a female."

Leonardo felt the burning feeling of unfairness begin to grow in his chest. But his Sensei was right. He was their leader. He should have planned the attack better. Should have anticipated the guns. He let Michelangelo down because he was distracted. And if it wasn't for Mikey acting so swiftly, they could've lost Donatello. The only thought he'd had was to find Karai and save her before they hurt her.

"I am sure you felt very  _noble_  rescuing her like some foolish caricature. Meanwhile, my youngest son was grievously injured while you played out your little fantasy."

"Master, the room was in chaos…" he pleaded for understanding; for something from his father that told him he wasn't a complete disappointment once again.

"I'm sure. Not any more or less chaotic than previous situations you have had to face with the Foot. And what strategy did you employ when you entered to save Ms. O'Neil? That was the purpose of this confrontation. You were to set the innocent woman free and bring her home. Yet, when it mattered most, you allowed yourself to be distracted with your own selfish desires."

Leonardo cringed but said nothing. What should he have done? His heart cried out in anguish as he remembered them on top of her through the doorway. He couldn't leave her to them. Splinter's whiskers twitched. The shadows seemed to point at him and laugh silently.

"Karai distracted you from protecting your brothers."

Leonardo flinched when he said her name. The knot twisted. His chest tightened. It was getting hard to breathe properly. He found himself taking in shallow breaths.

"M-Master, I had to…she…she was . . .they were going to. . ." his voice rose. It was as if he were there again. The panic rose within him, threatening to suffocate him.

"Leonardo," Splinter interrupted him. "My son. You must be focused to keep my children safe when I am gone."

The change in tone and topic threw him. He blinked rapidly, confused. Feeling like he was caught in a wind storm and there was no place to take cover from the buffeting gusts.

Splinter closed his eyes and lowered his head. He stayed like that for a moment before continuing. "I have recently become aware that I am not long for this world."

Leonardo rose up on his knees. He reached out in the air separating him from his father. "What? Sensei, what…?"

"Quiet, my child. Listen to me. I must be sure that you are willing to lead your brothers for the rest of your life with focus and dedication. As I have done. To leave behind selfish desires and foolish notions of love. You must be able to make this sacrifice. For me. It is my wish."

Leonardo felt a numbness growing within him. It swallowed the knot of guilt; leaving him feeling hollowed out and frightened. Splinter just told him that he thought he was dying; just asked him to give up Karai; forever.

He was trapped.

"I will give you one day to consider what I have told you. One day to think on your and your brothers' future and the safety of your family. Then I have something for you. One last task that you must accomplish to prove you are worthy of the what I leave in your hands when I am no more. Now go. Meditate on this. I will speak to you of what this final task will be come morning."

Leo stood on quavering legs. He bowed respectfully and stepped quietly from his father's room; knowing he had to get back to Karai. Fright and worry fought for dominance inside him.

What was this task that his father was to give to him in the morning? He had a feeling that it wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

Michelangelo and Donatello watched Leonardo move across the lair to his room. He said nothing to them. Even when Donatello had run to Leo's side and quietly asked if everything was okay. He'd said nothing. It was eerily close to how Leonardo had behaved for weeks after they had brought him home from the Shredder's torture.

Michelangelo sighed. "I'm tired. Can I go to sleep, yet?"

Donatello helped him to his feet. "C'mon. You should be okay, now. It's been a couple of hours."

Mikey patted Donnie's hand as he helped him into his room. When he moved to tuck him in, Michelangelo chuckled.

"Um . . . I've been grazed by a bullet, not crippled."

Donatello checked himself and gave a sheepish smile. "Sorry, heh, just like when you were little, huh?"

"Yeah, I remember when Splinter would take Raph and Leo scavenging for food up on the surface. We always had to keep the home fires burning. Me and you. Raph would always come back with stories of the monsters he fought on the way home. And Leo would insist everyone share what they found equally. Remember, the ruler he used sometimes?"

Donatello laughed and he did remember, his eyes looking far away as he stared at the wall next to Michelangelo's bed. Mikey paused and fingered the edge of his blanket.

"Nothin's ever gonna be like that again. Is it?"

Donatello looked at his little brother. His heart hurt because he was right. Nothing ever stays the same for too long. Just when you think things will be a certain way forever, everything you know changes. Often not for the better, either.

"Get some rest, bro."

Michelangelo shifted and rolled to face the wall.

"I'll get you something to eat at lunch time, okay?"

He saw Michelangelo nod and he stepped out of the room. He paused outside of Leonardo's room. He listened but heard no sound coming from inside. Donatello wondered what Splinter had said to him. Surely, he knew Leo had went the extra step of saving Karai. But he'd expected their Sensei to shout at Leo, but he'd heard nothing while he waited with Michelangelo.

His face darted to his father's room as Splinter stepped outside and moved to a chair. He rubbed his chest with one hand, an action he seemed to be doing often this morning. Splinter raised his eyes and motioned for his son to come down and sit with him.

"Donatello," he began as his son sat on the edge of one couch cushion, "I know that you blame Mr. Jones for what happened to Ms. O'Neil."

Donatello's body went rigid. "Yes, Sensei. That's because he was the  _reason_  that she was  _kidnapped_  and  _beaten_ ," he snapped.

Splinter nodded. "Yes, I know, my son. Just as I know that your feelings for Ms. O'Neil are not platonic."

Donatello's face turned a deep shade of red. He blinked rapidly and gazed firmly at the leg of their coffee table.

"It is the fact of these feelings that you have that I must bring this to your attention. Donatello, my son. My intelligent son. Even you must see that further involvement with our family is nothing but dangerous for the young lady."

Donatello's head snapped up. "I know. Master Splinter, I…we've never let anything happen to her before. It was only because Casey got mixed up with Venom that her life was put in danger."

Master Splinter shook his head. "You are wrong, my son."

Donatello bristled. "If he didn't get involved with them, she'd be at home right now. Home and safe. Did you see the bruises on her  _face_?" His already raspy voice rose an octave and he stood up.

Splinter patted the air in front of him with one hand. "Calm yourself. I merely point to the fact that this could have been the Foot or Shredder or the Purple Dragons. We cannot defend Ms. O'Neil at every turn. We cannot give her that kind of devoted attention."

"I can!" he blurted.

Splinter stared at him. Their gazes locked. Donatello stood firmly, unflinching, staring back into his master's eyes defiantly with all the courage and determination and confidence of superiority that youth sometimes brings.

"I see. And can you give her a future?"

Donatello's gaze wavered.

"A life? A home where the sunlight pours in through the windows?"

Donatello slowly sat down. He blinked.

"And children?"

Donatello's eyes fell to the floor. His shoulders slumped. Master Splinter watched his son's confidence wither and die before him. His heart ached for his child, but he knew he was saving him from deeper heartbreak at a later time.

"I only tell you these truths to help you see them, my son. Sometimes the power of desire blinds us with glorious imaginings of things that can never be. You must face the truth and have courage. You can give her something, my son. Something very precious."

Donatello slowly raised his shining eyes to his father.

"You can give her a chance to live her life to the fullest. Without us. Urge her to go to college. To follow her dreams. To forget about us. Give to her the most precious gift of freedom. Can you do that? Do you care enough for her to give her this gift?"

Two tears spilled down the sides of Donatello's cheeks as he stared at his father and processed the wisdom laid before him.

"Can you set her free?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, the angst! XD Please Review!


	17. Delicate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (From my original post) Oh my gosh, I can't believe it. I know, I should have spent the day studying for that vocab test for my Library Technology class, but I started the little bit here with Leo and then, I just couldn't stop! So, 6,700 + words later, I've got a fresh chapter all set for my sweet, darling readers! XD (forgive any spelling errors, I didn't check and double check as I usually do!) 
> 
> Despite the rush, something tells me my Donnie/April fans are really going to like this chapter...but don't let me spoil anything...read on and leave me a review when you're done!

_"We might kiss when we are alone_

_…we might make out when nobody's watching -_

_It's not that we're_ _ **scared**_ _. . . It's just that it's_ _ **delicate**_ _…"_ – Delicate by Damien Rice

* * *

 

Inside his room, Leonardo stood, hands at his sides, eyes slowly roving from his neatly made bed tucked in the corner, to the fat square meditation candle sitting in front of the paper screen he'd repaired so long ago. Cranes flying into a pink sunrise against a soft yellow back drop, rosy petals of cherry blossoms danced in the breeze while long slender reeds, painted green and brown, swayed in the foreground. 

He used to imagine himself standing there; on the edge of the unseen lake, watching the misty sunrise; listening to the sound of the cranes. Alone. Free. Peace would settle over his heart; his mind. While the vision held, he felt whole. Now the screen seemed flat and transparent. 

_M_ _y father is dying._

He saw the brick outline of the wall behind the thin parchment; solid and unrelenting; as real and gritty, unforgiving and ugly as the city that pressed down upon him from above.

Stepping to the bookcase, he moved as in a dream, half-awake and yet the walls pressed in aggressively around him; making the solace of his room feel more like the confines of a cell; or a trap sealed tight. He paused for a moment, then lifted the thick book;  _The Art of War;_  flipped the pages to the back where he had pressed it. 

 _My father is dying._  

He stared with burning eyes. One finger traced the brittle petals. An edge of one cracked and broke loose; it fell, fragile and delicate like a glowing ember floating on an invisible breeze.

His heart suddenly leapt and galloped in his chest. He folded forward and gasped. It felt as if his heart was attempting to break free from the skeletal prison of his ribs. The book snapped shut on the rose; nearly dropping it as he grabbed his chest with his free hand.

He pitched sideways and knocked into the screen. It fell and one panel caught and ripped against the ragged surface of the bricks behind it. He pressed his shoulder into the solid rough wall; closing his eyes; clutching the book tightly with one arm against him. The rapid beating of his heart eased as the panic attack abated. He slowed his breathing and righted himself. With a hand that shook, he carefully set the book back onto the shelf.

He had to get back to Karai. If only to say goodbye.

* * *

As the sound of the water rushing continued, Raphael did his best to keep his eyes open and his mind from wandering into the bathroom where he knew she stood; naked and wet. He shook his face like a dog shaking himself awake.

He stood and grabbed the remote from the top of the television set. Marched into the kitchen and snatched a bag of chips from the top of the small refrigerator. As he stepped back into the living room, it took every ounce of will not to glance into the open doorway of the bathroom. He kept his gaze locked on the crinkling bag of chips as if it were a holy artifact.

He popped open the bag and settled back onto the bed; scooting back until his shell pressed against the flat pillows and wall. He spun the remote around and clicked the power button; tipping the bag forward to let the salty treats fall into his open mouth. The box buzzed as the television came to life. He heard the water turn off in the other room and was relieved.

He munched the chips noisily and poured more into his mouth. Now he could relax until Leo got back. Maybe catch a game or something to take his mind off things.

The screen before him filled with the image of two naked women groping each other. A chip caught half-way down his throat as he sputtered and fumbled with the remote. Choking on the sharp point of a stubborn chip that lodged itself between the roof of his mouth and the back of his tongue he pressed the buttons on the remote rapidly with his thumb, then with his finger while gripping it in one hand.

He pressed the numbers, then the random buttons; all of them; any of them as the groans and moans of the women filled the room. A sleazy song accompanied the sounds of the women pleasuring each other. The volume continued to rise as he scrambled to find a way to change the channel. He pressed so hard the buttons collapsed inside the cheap plastic casing of the remote control.

He scooted to the edge of the bed and pointed the remote an inch from the screen as Karai stepped out from the bathroom; a towel wrapped around her.

He glanced sideways at her and saw her face go from the screen to him. She raised an eyebrow and her expression renewed his coughing fit. The remote jumped and fumbled between his scrambling fingers and fell onto the floor. The back of the remote cracked open and one battery rolled beneath the bed.

_"Dammit!"_

He lurched forward and punched the button on the front of the television set making the box slam backwards into the wall. The screen filled with static and a high pitched buzzing filled the room. Karai covered her ears and grimaced. To Raphael the sound was like music. Another punch killed the noise and probably the set, too.

He shook his hand and shot a sideways glance in Karai's direction. The back of his neck heated up. He wanted to run out of the room, but he swore to Leo he'd keep his girlfriend safe so his ass was glued to the bed.

A wry smile spread across Karai's face and he felt his temper boiling over. He stood up and went to the window. He grabbed the edge of the curtain, nearly tearing it off the rod and cast about, looking for any sign of his returning brother. He heard her move out of the room. Hopefully, she was putting some damn clothes on. He took a shuddering breath.

How humiliating. He should have expected that was the last channel Casey had on, the pervert. Thankfully, Karai said nothing. He didn't even want to think about what was going through her mind when she came out of the bathroom and saw what he was watching.

"I'm ready to go."

Raphael turned from the window. "What?"

She was wearing the clothes he had found for her. An oversized white t-shirt that she had tied at her hip and a pair of baggy jeans. Her hair was wet and tendrils of water trailed down the t-shirt in long gray lines. The base of her neck had two wide bandages covering the gash from the collar. He noticed that she had torn the hem from the shirt and had strung it through the belt loops of the pants to create a make-shift belt. Her feet were bare.

She held out her hand; wagged her fingers. "I'd like the keys to that truck outside."

"U-uh. We're not goin' anywhere 'til Leo gets back."

At his name she faltered a bit. Her hand dropped to her side. She stared at the carpet between them; chewing on her bottom lip. Then, he saw her make up her mind. Her eyes flashed as they met his again.

"I  _have_  to get back to my apartment. I need to find out if Venom . . . They had my father. I need to know if he's okay."

Venom had captured the Shredder? Raphael blinked as he took in this information. Maybe Venom had done them a favor and killed the bastard.

"No dice. I told Leo I would stay put until he got back."

She frowned. Her hands went to her hips.

He crossed his arms over his chest, bracing for an argument. This, he could handle. She wasn't goin' nowhere. Not until his brother got back. If he had to argue with her all day, he'd do it.

She closed her eyes. Then opened them slowly. She stepped to the armchair and sat down.

He watched her warily.

"Anything to eat around here?"

He didn't expect her to give in so quickly; to be so submissive. This wasn't the Karai he knew. A stab of guilt went through him. Maybe the experience with those ninjas messed her up.

"There's some chips in the kitchen."

"As tempting as chips sound at ten in the morning, I was hoping for something a little more filling."

"There's beer, too," he said without a hint of kidding in his voice.

She ran a hand through her damp hair; scrubbed her fingers through it in frustration. She raised her eyes to Raphael who hadn't moved from his position near the door.

"Would it be too much trouble to ask you to get me something to eat?"

He shook his head stubbornly. "Sorry. Nothin' around here anyway. We're in the middle of nowhere."

"I'm sure there's a vending machine or something." She stood up and he braced himself. "I'll be right back."

He shook his head again.  _Not goin' nowhere._  Though he remembered seeing a vending machine when they brought Karai here earlier. It was at the one end of the balcony.

She rubbed her stomach and glanced into the kitchen. She turned her face to him. "I feel sort of shaky. Lightheaded."

"Then grab some chips." He jerked his thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

She shook her head. She rubbed her arm and stepped closer to him. He stepped back. She came closer. His hand went to the hilt of one sai, though he didn't think she was planning on attacking him. The other hand braced against the door knob. Still she moved closer. He could smell her wet hair and skin.

"Please, Raphael? I don't want to pass out again," she said and her voice purred against his ears.

He wasn't sure if it was her ever closing in proximity and feeling like a cornered rat, or the sound of her stomach growling piteously that had him scrambling out the door and slinking down to the vending machine. But it didn't matter. He was just glad to put some space between him and her. Leo owed him big time for this. He grumbled and quickly scanned the contents displayed inside the glass door.

As quietly as he could, he pried the door of the vending machine open with the point of his sai. He grunted and pulled as it came free. Grabbing an armload of donut holes and other goods, he turned in time to see her jumping inside the truck. Dammit.

He ran down the balcony towards their room. He dropped the food and ran towards the vehicle as he heard the door shut with a bang. Luckily, he had the keys in his belt.  _Tough, ninja-girl, you ain't goin' nowhere._  

Unluckily, he heard the engine turn over, stall and then turn over again as she quickly hot-wired it.  _Just my luck._  He swore as he vaulted over the railing of the balcony. With a grunt he smashed down onto the hood. He rolled and pulled open the passenger side door just as she put it in reverse.

"Dammit!" He clambered inside just as it nearly pulled him loose from the door. "Turn it around, right now, Karai!" he growled at her.

She shook her head as she pressed on the gas.

"You heard me!" he shouted.

Raphael grabbed the wheel and she elbowed him in the snout. He blinked back tears as white flashed across his vision. He growled and yanked the wheel harder. The truck wove and lurched, but Karai managed to pull onto the highway ramp. An eighteen wheeler blasted them with its horn as they swerved sideways across the lanes and into its path; only feet in front of the blue cab of the truck.

"Stop it, you moron! You're gonna get us killed!"

The vehicle swerved and righted itself as Raphael released his grip. He sat back in his seat. Then punched the dash board; once; twice; swearing. Leo was gonna kill him. Karai glanced at him then snickered at his tantrum.

He bristled. "Yeah, hilarious. I guess you didn't want to see  _your Leonardo_  so bad after all," he snarled.

All humor fled from her face as it paled. " _Fuck you_. What do you know?"

He snorted.

That small sound enraged her. She punched him in the shoulder and he rolled his eyes. He brushed his arm as if dusting off. Gritting her teeth, she pressed hard on the gas pedal. The truck lurched forward and bounced as she cut in front of another eighteen wheeler. The horn blasted around them; roaring in his ears.

Raphael grabbed the edge of the top of the passenger side window with one hand and braced against the dash board with his other. He clenched his jaw as his body went rigid.

"I know I don't wanna die as a smear on the fuckin' road!"

* * *

Donatello paced in his room. His mind raced. He sat down in front of his computer and tried to focus on writing the virus he needed to create to take care of that video of Leonardo and Karai. But every time he tried to focus, Splinter's words came back to him. What could he give April? What kind of future would they have? He never really thought about it before. Never considered the future so much as just wanting to be with her  _now_.

And the question of children? Impossible.

His stomach clenched. Did April want to be a mother one day? He had no idea. He sighed. Most likely, she did. They were certainly not compatible with humans when it came to procreation. There was no way. For all their humanoid, mammalian characteristics, they remained reptilian as well. But the truth was, he didn't understand the full extent of their mutated biology. He didn't have the precise equipment that could perform the delicate research that would reveal the secrets of their unique DNA. All he knew was the basics. He and his brothers seemed healthy and everything functioned correctly. But were they even fertile? It remained a mystery. If only he knew more.

He dropped his head into his hands; pressing the heels into his tired eyes. He really needed to get some rest. His wrist throbbed along with his temples. His mind wandered back to the virus. Donatello typed a few lines of code; his thoughts bouncing from Splinter's words, to the coding, to the video he was trying to destroy. The video of his brother having sex with Karai.

He blinked and swallowed. Leonardo and Karai.

He sat up and stared at his door; fingers nervously strummed against the edge of his computer desk. He wished he could talk to his brother about the experience. He'd been curious since he first discovered their intimate liaison. For more than simply scientific reasons.

He understood human anatomy. Even the female anatomy. Hours of unchaperoned internet use had educated him further than any of his brothers could have dreamt. But nothing compared to first-hand knowledge. His eyes dropped to the floor. But it was impossible. Leo would be too embarrassed to share any information with him that he could use.

Then there was Mikey and his experience with that call girl on Leo's birthday. He shuddered. No, he would rather not know from him. He preferred to pretend that his little brother remained innocent. Ridiculous and immature of him, sure, but much more comfortable for him than accepting the alternative. Of course, that did point to the fact that he and his brothers were more than compatible physically with human women.

He huffed. Why was he even thinking about this? He chastised himself. It wasn't even as if April wanted anything to do with him. And even if she did, Splinter was right. He had nothing to give her. Nothing, he thought bitterly. A quiet, foolish voice rose up in the back of his mind,  _only my love._ He snorted and turned back to the computer.

_A lot of good that will do us._

* * *

April wiped the tear from her cheek. She'd been thinking about what Splinter had asked of her. And it just didn't seem fair. She tried to understand where Splinter was coming from. But she thought he was going too far with his punishment for his eldest son. No matter how he phrased it, that's what it was: a punishment. She couldn't imagine how he and his brothers were going to take the news. She started as the door opened and Master Splinter stepped inside her temporary room in the lair.

"When I go get my things, I'll print everything up for you, Master Splinter."

"It is much appreciated. I could not have made all the arrangements without your help. One day, I will find a way to repay you."

She sniffed and shook her head but then leveled a look at him. "Are you sure about this, Splinter? I mean, isn't it a bit . . . extreme?"

Master Splinter stared at her, calmly and in a low voice he replied, "Do not presume to judge my actions when it comes to my family's future and safety, Ms. O'Neil. I have put a lot of thought and meditation into this decision. It is for the best. As one day you will understand. Until then, I only ask for your cooperation as you agreed."

"B-But, it'll be so hard for him."

"Yes. It will be a challenge. But it will make him stronger. It will remind him what is important. It will make him prioritize his family above all selfish desires."

"It's natural for children to grow up, though, Master Splinter. To move on and make families of their own."

He nodded. "Perhaps in the world of humans, you are granted such freedom. It is not so for my children. They only have each other. That is what fate has decreed when it comes to them."

_Donatello has me. And I'm going to make sure he knows it._

She nodded and stood. "I'll get Donatello to come with me. To get my things."

"Take Leonardo."

"He's not in his room, Sensei."

Splinter's whiskers twitched. His brow knitted together. "I see. Then take Donatello along."

* * *

Leonardo stood in the doorway, breathing fast and fighting the panic. The pile of snacks lay in a scattered heap on the cement balcony just outside the opened door. He moved inside, peering around in the shafts of light coming through the curtain, looking for signs of a struggle. He pulled his shell cell from his belt and dialed Raphael's number.

It rang.

_Please be okay._

And rang.

_C'mon._

Then it clicked and a rough voice barked through the speaker, "Yeah?"

"It-It's me, Raph. Where are you? Did something happen? Are you okay? Where's Karai?"

"Easy Leo. It's fine. I'm at her apartment. Long story. Just get over here, already. Okay? I want to go home and see Mikey."

"R-Right. Give me the address. Okay, got it. I'll be there as soon as I can. Mikey was doing good at home. Don patched him up . . . And Raph?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He heard Raph huff something he couldn't catch and the line went dead.

* * *

Raphael hung up his cell and walked past Karai who was holding her phone with two hands, listening to the messages her father had left her. He opened his mouth to tell her Leo was on his way, but her tearful expression made him close it with a snap. Later, he'd tell her later. He moved into the kitchen in search of some more substantial food than the chips he'd eaten earlier.

 _He was okay. He was okay,_  Karai's mind repeated over and over. She rested her head against the wall and shook with relief. He got away. She focused on the message's details. Sifted through the unimportant and focused on the crucial points; they killed Sophia's aunt and mother; they're searching for Sophia and Marcus; the cities are in chaos throughout Japan; she was told to remain in New York as Venom and the Foot Clan faced off.

She hung up the phone and wiped her face with two hands. Her father was alive. She was grateful. She was. But a small part of her shamefully felt an invisible collar refasten itself around her neck. One that bit deeper than her flesh. She didn't want her father dead. No. That was wrong. She wanted out. For good. No matter what it took. She was done with the Foot. Done with her father's plans for the future and his legacy and demands of her.

She moved to the window. The tree tops lining the street where her apartment sat blazed in autumn glory; crimson, purple and gold. She blinked as several doves fluttered past the glass. Their shadows danced across her face.

She would set herself free. With Leonardo's help.

* * *

Donatello hitched the large bag over his shoulder as he stepped into April's apartment. She scurried around, picking up items that had been knocked over in her abduction. He watched her move from one corner of the living room to another. She seemed unlike herself. Nervous. Jumpy. He chalked it up to bad memories of the last time she'd been there. Last night.

God, was it only last night when she'd been kidnapped? It felt like days and days ago. Donatello swayed on his feet. He really needed some rest. At least Mikey was sleeping. He asked Splinter not to wake him and allow him to sleep through lunch.

The walk through the tunnels to her apartment was made in awkward silence. He knew this trek was coming. She was only in her pajamas after all. He figured he'd just be sent to gather a few things for her. When he found out he'd be accompanying her, a lump formed in his throat that he'd yet to rid himself of. After Splinter's talk he found it hard to look at her for too long without getting emotional.

_Can you set her free?_

"Ugh, I don't know why I'm even bothering," she said with a shrug, yanking him from his sad thoughts. "It's not like I'll be back any time soon. It's just the thought of leaving everything a mess kind of bothers me. Hey, how about some coffee? I might need a few minutes." She motioned to herself.

Donatello nodded. "Sure," he croaked.

The last time he'd had coffee in her apartment things didn't turn out so good. But he didn't know what else to do with himself. The lump remained in his throat. A cool sweat broke out across his forehead. He set the empty bag down and moved into the kitchen. The vase with the withered flowers was long gone. He tapped his fingers nervously on the table cloth.

April's voice called from the bathroom, "Help yourself, Don." He heard the sound of the shower turn on.

Half an hour later and four cups of black coffee, Donatello was wide awake and feeling jittery but clear headed. He'd made up his mind. He would insist that April go to college and forget about them.

April entered the kitchen; hair dripping and fresh faced. He tapped both his hands against the table and opened his mouth to make the bold and selfless announcement. But the words that were so full and direct in his mind seemed to shrink and vanish on their way to his mouth.

She stopped and motioned for him with a tilt of her head to go into the living room with her as they did that night. Donatello stood up and the chair leg screamed across the floor. He winced and followed in her shadow. As the other night, he sat on one end of the small sofa. Knees together; elbows braced.

"Don," she began and he felt his heart start to beat unnaturally hard inside of him. She pressed her mouth together and scooted closer to him. "I'm really sorry about the other night. When you tried to…"

Donatello stood up abruptly. The words spilled out of him like a raging waterfall, "It…It was nothing. A misunderstanding. Really, April. Why even bring it up? Forget it. N-Never happened."

"But, Donnie. I want to talk about this."

"Well, I don't," he snapped and instantly felt déjà vu. He glanced around the room feeling odd.

"Please, sit down."

He complied without any further protest; looking everywhere but at her.

"It…It's not just about that night." She rubbed her hands on top of her thighs. "I don't know how to say this, except that I think, I've been sending you the wrong signals."

Ugh. No. Nope. No way. He really didn't want to hear this. If she was goin to start telling him how much she cared about Casey, he thought he'd be sick. He stood up again as his stomach decided to have a fit. He tasted the coffee come up and fought to keep it back. This time April stood up with him. He shook his head and started to move out of the room.

"Will you just sit still for a minute and let me talk."

"I understand," he said helplessly, voice breaking, "you don't have to spell it out for me, April. I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were stupid, Donnie."

"Oh, no, no you never did. But I am," he chuckled and it was hollow and without warmth, "I guarantee it. I am probably the most stupid mutant on the planet." He shuffled towards her door. His voice rattled on breathlessly through his panting gasps, "I…I think you should…consider going…to college, April. Get away from the ninjas and gang warfare…get away from us," his voice cracked.

April frowned. "What are you saying?"

He froze and fingertips picking frantically at his thumb; looking at her door, not meeting her penetrating, hurt gaze. He said in his coldest most condescending voice, "I guess I have to spell it out for  _you_. I am  _saying_ , that you should move on already. I-I, huh huh, mean,  _really_? Running around with a bunch of mutant freaks? Haven't you had enough fun? You don't even have an education. I think it's time to grow up."

He turned to face her, feeling miserable but oddly glad that he finally managed to say what he needed to when the slap knocked him back. His feet stumbled and he landed on the couch; shocked and with his face stinging. He raised his hand to his cheek and stared, dumbfounding, up at April.

She loomed over him. Her face was red, where the purple bruises stood out deep and dark around her eye and bottom lip. " _Fun!? Fun!?_  You call being kidnapped, beaten and scared out of my mind, fun!? What is wrong with you?"

"April, I didn't mean it like that…" he whispered.

"Oh, I know what you meant. I may not be as intelligent as you, Donnie. And yes, I don't have a college education, so this may be surprising for you to grasp, but I understand  _exactly_  what you are trying to do."

He could only stare and blink like a mindless cow.

"And I know who's behind it," she spat. Then she began to pace back and forth in her living room. "Oh yes, I do. Don't try to look so innocent. After I tried to go to him and talk to him about my feelings for you. What he said to me, then . . ." She shook her head and growled.

Donatello felt his body sink into the couch with the weight of her words.  _She'd gone to Master Splinter? About her feelings? For me?_

"Are you going to sit there and look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me?"

"Wh…What?"

"Is that the next step, when your cruelty doesn't chase me away? You'll tell me that you don't feel anything for me?"

She crossed the room and crouched in front of him as he slowly raised himself off the back of the cushion and sat up.

"Or maybe you'll try to convince me that you have nothing to give me, is that it?"

_Was she somehow hiding the fact that she had psychic ability?_

He opened his mouth and closed it. Then opened it again, feeling angry, feeling exhausted and empty. "Well, what  _do_  I have to give you, huh? Let's see. An underground home in the shit-filled sewers beneath the glorious slums of New York City?"

He laughed and it was a bitter, cold sound. "Oh, but it's got some  _great_  views when the storms flood the storm drains. Let me tell you. And the winters, nothing says home like freezing your ass off day after day."

And now he was shouting, "Wow! But here's a plus! You don't have to worry about the school system, though, because I could never give you…give _you_ …" his voice caught and broke off as two large tears spilled down the sides of his face.

He dropped his face into his hands, full of shame at his outburst; despair at the ridiculous situation. April rose up on her knees and pulled him into an embrace. His shoulders shook and he didn't care, his hoarse, choking sobs filled the air and he didn't care. All he cared about was that she was holding him. But sniffling, he pulled away from her.

Miserable, he went on, "Splinter is right. He's right. I'm a mutant turtle for crying out loud, April. You can do better than this," he gestured to himself.

She took the sides of his face gently between her hands. In a shaking voice, she replied, "Do I need to slap you again, mister? You're smarter than that, Donatello. You and I both know there is more to you than what makes up your outside appearance. Just like I hope you think of me."

He bit his lower lip. "But Master Splinter said . . ."

"I don't care what he told you. I'm telling you. Don, I've had feelings for you for a long, long time. I was too scared to face them. I was a coward and instead of facing the truth, I hid it away and distracted myself with Casey." He flinched a little at the mention of the man's name. "And you paid for my weakness at every turn."

"No," he shook his head, "you're anything but weak."

She blinked and smiled. "The truth I've been running from is . . ."

She thought of Karai, then. How the young woman took what she wanted and faced the consequences so fiercely, so bravely. She wanted Leonardo. She loved him. She nearly lost her life for him. She was mocked and tortured for loving him because of what he was. And still Karai held true to her love for him, despite what he was on the outside. Despite what the world may think of their love. Well, now she was ready to do that for Donatello.

". . . I love you, Don. I want to make up to you the time I wasted being afraid. I'm ready to give you all of me."

Donatello closed his eyes as the words rushed through him. He let her words repeat and echo through his mind. Was it real? Was he dreaming again? Sleepwalking?

He felt April move and suddenly she was against him; kissing him. Hard and soft, frantic and gentle; kissing him. His hands found their way into her hair; so soft and damp between his fingers. They rolled to the side and onto the floor. The coffee table shifted aside as Donatello pushed it away with one hand. The soft, frantic kisses turned deeper and slower.

And when April slid her shirt over her head as she murmured over and over in his ear that she loved him, he thought he'd surely had died somewhere between the lair and her apartment. Because this had to be heaven.

His breath hitched as he felt her hands roving slowly down the sides of his body until they stopped just below his belt. He froze and his brown eyes danced between hers.

"A-April…b-but are you s…sure?" he asked in a hushed voice. "Wh-What about…?"

"Shh. Yes, please, Donnie. I want you. I've wanted you forever."

His eyelids fluttered closed as his heart raced. All exhaustion and confusion forgotten as he was swallowed by the moment he'd dreamt of and had all but given up on. He gave her everything he had. Everything. All of his love, all of himself.

The soft sound of their kisses and murmurs of love and ardent promises filled her apartment. And the world spun around them, unchanged and uncaring, but they only existed within the delicate embrace of their tender love.

* * *

Leonardo landed with a soft thud just outside Karai's apartment on the fire escape. He tapped the window and Raphael appeared. With a grunt, Raph slid the window up and Leonardo climbed inside. He nodded his thanks to his brother and then followed Raphael's gaze to the woman standing just inside the hallway half hidden by the shadows. Raphael patted his arm and turned to go.

"Wait," Leo told him and Raph froze, a frown on his face. "I won't be long."

Raphael stared at his older brother, not understanding. But he only nodded and with a last glance in Karai's direction slipped out the window.

Leonardo turned towards Karai, but kept his head lowered and to one side. "Are you . . . well?" he asked softly.

His voice. That gentle, sweet voice that haunted her dreams. To hear it again was nearly too much.

"Yes."

There was an awkward stretch of silence. Karai took a step towards him and emerged from the shadows. But Leonardo stood rigidly, one hand on the window frame as if afraid to let go of it. Or perhaps it was keeping him upright. He wasn't looking at her. What did that mean?

Suddenly she was afraid. So many things she needed to say; too many things. And she found nothing would come out of her mouth but her shallow, empty breath. The way he was standing there, not looking at her, after all this time. She wanted to touch him, to hold him. To make sure he was real. Why was he standing there? Why wouldn't he look at her? Panic rose within her and she started to feel like she would scream.

"I have to go. I just wanted to make sure…that you were…okay."

He turned from her then, back to the window. Began to climb through.

He was leaving? Just like that? Anger and desperation clawed at her. She reached out. Took several steps towards him. A choked sound broke from her. But she blinked and he was gone.

Was he ever there in the first place? Did she dream this? Was she awake? Doves and pigeons scattered across her window in a frantic burst.

Her knees buckled and she fell to the cold tiled floor. She pressed her forehead against the coolness. She would not cry. She would not. She would find him and fix this. As she had meant to do when she first arrived in New York. Before the chaos with Venom.

She clenched her fists and pressed them to her temples. It was for the best. She wasn't ready to see him. She'd be stronger after she got some rest.

* * *

Raphael watched him as they raced across the roof tops heading back in silence. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. He stopped and hooked his thumbs in his belt. He panted lightly. Leonardo did a double take when he didn't hear Raphael's footsteps beside him. He stopped and approached his brother.

Raph reached out and pushed roughly against Leonardo's shoulder. Leonardo took a step back. He frowned.

"Something wrong?"

"Yeah," Raph nodded rapidly. "I think maybe there is." He jerked his thumb behind them. "What the hell was that all about back there?"

Leonardo looked at him, then away. The sounds of traffic filled the air. A siren wailed in the distance.

"We don't have time for this, we could be spotted."

"Nope. You're gonna make time. Cuz I'm pretty confused here, chief. You had me babysit Karai all that time, just so you could come back and ask her 'what's up'?"

Leonardo blinked but said nothing.

"I can wait all day." Raphael crossed his arms. "Leo, what's the problem here? I thought you'd be thrilled to," he shrugged, "I dunno, get some quality time with her." He considered his brother carefully. "You still care about her, don't cha?"

Did he have the situation with Leo and Karai pegged wrong? It wouldn't make sense. But what did he know? He waited for Leonardo to say something. These past two years it took his brother a long time to speak, but Raphael found he could be patient when it came to getting an answer from Leo. He wouldn't push. He'd just wait. But Leonardo was so quiet for so long, Raphael thought he may never answer.

White clouds drifted overhead. The air was crisp and chilled. Raphael noted his brother wasn't wearing a jacket or anything and wondered if his brother was uncomfortable in the cool autumn air.

Finally, Leonardo let out a long breath and looked up into the sky. "It's complicated."

Raphael rolled his eyes. He chuckled. "You know, it's funny, but I remember you tellin' me that before when it came to Karai. When is it  _not_  complicated with you two love birds?"

Something in Raphael's tone caught his attention. "You make it sound as if…"

"Amazing, isn't it? Never thought I'd be sayin' this to ya, bro." Raphael shook his head and gazed about with a smile on his face. The afternoon sun gleamed across his shoulders as he stepped closer to his brother. "But yeah, I think…" he scratched the side of his jaw, "maybe, I could…sort of, see you two together. I mean, as long as you're happy…I'm happy, or some shit. Whatever. Let's get home."

Leonardo frowned as he took in what his brother was saying. Then a small smile spread across his face. His blue eyes sparkled in the knowledge of his brother's long-coming acceptance. Raphael clapped him on the shoulder. Raphael rocked on his toes and dropped his chin and shook his head with a smile.

"Alright, enough of his bonding crap. C'mon, let's move it before things get chick-flick-y around here. I gotta see how Mikey's thick skull held up to bein' shot."

He glanced over his shoulder as Raphael ran past him to leap to the next building. The warmth of the moment between him and his brother cooled as he thought of Karai standing in the shadows of her apartment. His heart constricted with regret.

He couldn't leave things like that between him and Karai. And yet, if he were to honor his father's wishes, maybe it was for the best. Indecision gnawed at him. The familiar racing of his panicked heart told him he'd need to resolve this issue once and for all and soon. He looked up into the sky again as a small jet came in low for a landing.

He took a deep breath and blew it out. Well, Master Splinter gave him until the morning. He had one last night of freedom left. Before he had to give up everything he loved. He decided he'd make the most of it. But first he'd check on Michelangelo and make sure he was feeling alright.

Then he'd see her again. Talk to her. Set things right between them before he has to say goodbye. And let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you. No, seriously, readers, you are wonderful. Thank you for all the follows, favorites and reviews. That's why I push, you know.


	18. Freedom From Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, fair warning, the chapter below has some mature content in it. Nothing explicit, but, well, you'll see. Also, my Don and April fans . . . um . . . well, let's just say, you didn't really think I was done toying with your emotions, now did you? :) heh heh heh. Buckle up, pups.
> 
> And a big thanks to my readers who push me & challenge me to be a better writer. It matters. A lot.

_"Oh, now my body is starting to quiver_

_and the palms of my hands getting wet_

_I got no reason to doubt you, baby_

_it's all a terrible mess."_ **–** Jimmy Page  _Fool in the Rain_

_\----------------------------------------------_

_**"We promise according to our hopes and perform according to our fears." –** Francois de la Rochefoucauld_

* * *

After a few more minutes of allowing the solidity of the floor steel her nerves, Karai stood up on shaking legs. The side of her face felt cool and numb from where she had laid it against the floor of her kitchen when Leonardo had disappeared out through the window. She ran a trembling hand through her tangled hair and turned towards the hallway which led to her bathroom. Without thinking, she turned on the water to her shower. Though she'd washed up at the motel room where Raphael had stood guard over her, she felt the need to clean herself more thoroughly.

Bracing her palms against the white porcelain sink, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. Deep purple shadows lined the undersides of her eyes, her face was pale and gaunt looking. Her hair was mussed and tangled in places; bunching up and sticking up awkwardly. Her eyes appeared dull and lacked their usual glittering, mischievous light; the light she'd even admit to herself that made her eyes particularly attractive. Her reflection cast a grim picture of a woman who was battle worn and tired. Much older looking than her nineteen years.

 _No wonder he ran_ , she thought bitterly _. I look hideous._

A choked laugh erupted from her that morphed into a riot of gasping guffaws. She folded over and held her stomach as the maniacal laughter burst from her chest like heaving waves of invisible vomit. Karai's shoulders shook and her stomach hurt from emitting the violent humorless outburst. Straightening up, her laughter subsided to shaking bouts of giggling fits.

She covered her mouth with one hand and stared wide-eyed at her reflection as something like hysteria bubbled up out of her from the depths of her trauma. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head in disgust, but had to bite her lip to keep from laughing any more.

 _Those bastards._  She dropped her head and took a deep breath. Then another and another.  _They did not break me. It takes more than a few bruises and an attempted rape to break Oroku Saki's daughter._

She raised her head. Her chin jutted out a little in defiance of the waves of hysteria, shock and fear that ebbed and flowed throughout her.

"You are stronger than this, girl," she told her reflection in a soft wavering voice. Her fingers curled into fists. "You are kunoichi. You are a warrior."

But a thin stream of tears were running down the sides of her cheeks as her blood-shot eyes roamed down to the bandages at her neck. The memories flooded through her mind: the collar choking her; the humiliating video of Leonardo and her being together; Sophia taunting her about being with Leonardo; then the grasping hands; the blank hunger in their eyes; the wild grunting noises the men were making that made them sound more animal than human; the sound of the last shreds of her dress being torn from her body; the desperation as she fought them off. Karai choked back a sob. She shivered and rubbed her aching, goose-bump covered arms vigorously.

Anger flared within her. It mixed with the nausea rolling around in the pit of her stomach. She felt like she was going to scream. But she knew if she did she may not stop. And the last thing she needed was her neighbors in the apartment to call the police. But the anger remained blazing inside her.

Her father should have never sold Marcus. The boy did not deserve such an ugly fate. What he did was evil and unforgiveable. She punched her fist on top of the sink. But she had no part in that. She would not be part of an organization that dished out such evil retribution; such dishonorable punishment for something so pathetic as the wounded pride of a daughter. She swallowed back the guilt and pushed the horrifying images from the video from her mind.

" _I had no part in that,"_ she whispered to herself, but knew she'd never be free from the guilt.

If she hadn't ever gotten involved with that stupid boy, none of that would have ever happened to him. _It was all my fault._

Just like what happened to Leonardo. She swallowed and shuddered. He was captured and tortured because of being with me. I should have protected him.

 _And now, I should just stay away from him. He'd never get hurt again that way. That's the best way to keep him safe._ More tears spilled from her burning eyes with the brutal truth of the thought. But how could she stay away from the one who made her  _feel_  again? He was  _everything_  to her. Everything. Without him, the world existed without color, without light, without hope. She needed him. She wanted him.

 _And if he doesn't want me?_  

Karai shrugged and sniffled; feeling helpless as a lost child. A broken sigh that was more of a sob broke from between her lips. Her breath hitched. She had to at least tell him how she felt. And then, even if he rejected her . . . She closed her eyes; released a shaky breath.

Then she would let him go. If he did not want her, she would have no choice.

A heaviness settled over her heart. It contrasted with the rapid racing feeling that was whirling in the back of her mind. She wondered dimly if she was beginning to go insane _. Is this what that feels like?_  Drowning in so many churning emotions. She took a long breath in and slowly blew it out. It calmed her somewhat. If he didn't want her, she would let him go, she thought again, to reaffirm her decision.

Though how she would continue to live without him . . .

Steam was filling the room and her reflection slowly faded to the silver mist covering the mirror. It made her feel like she was slowly vanishing along with it. Fading away into some hysterical state of madness. She shook her head back and forth violently; trying to dispel the morose despair clawing at her mind. It hurt her head to do so, but it seemed to snap her out of it a bit. Quickly, she pulled off the dirty clothes the mutant had offered her and eased herself under the torrent of hot water in the shower.

The droplets massaged her back and shoulders and though the temperature was a bit hot, it was also soothing. This was better. Gripping the loofah and liquid soap, she squeezed half the bottle onto the spongy netted surface. She scrunched it and squeezed until it foamed and lathered. Slowly, then more rapidly she rubbed herself with the soft, scrubbing material; starting at her shoulders, working over her modest but firm breasts and flat stomach; moving more gently but thoroughly over the dark bruises that lined the inside of her thighs.

She imagined the water and foamy soap washing away all the men's fingerprints on her body. Washing away the frigid fear and boiling anger. The indecision melted away with the lather and foam between her legs; swirling down between her feet. She scrubbed and rubbed until her skin was pink. Then she worked her shampoo through her hair, using her fingers to work it through the thickness down to her scalp.

When she was done she wrapped herself in the biggest softest towel she had and sat on the edge of the toilet with her head cradled in her hands. She felt calmer now. Like the pieces of herself that had started to come unhinged had somehow settled back into place. She knew she'd need time to heal completely, but for now, she was feeling a little better, enough so that she felt she could rest and recoup before she went out to look for him.

But first, she needed to call her father and let him know she was okay.

* * *

April felt Donatello's body shudder as he slid from her and eased himself next to her on the floor of her living room.

Slowly, her arms moved from his shoulders and braced herself to sit up. He opened his mouth and whispered something to her, but she didn't hear him. The blood was racing through her ears like the sound of a roaring jet. She felt him stiffen and his hand trail along her arm as she shifted, her motions jerky and quick.

She sat up and climbed to stand. Moving quickly she slipped from the living room and dashed into the hallway on the balls of her feet. She heard the uncertainty and the waver in his voice as he called her name and gave a false, reassuring mumble about the bathroom and a shower.

Inside the bathroom, she braced her back against the door and slid to the floor. Her elbows rested on her bent knees, her fingers scrubbed through her hair and stopped at the top of her head as the hot, shameful tears slipped free.

_Oh god. What have I done?_

* * *

Donatello blinked and stared at the empty floor next to him where he lay, propped on one elbow; where moments before the girl he loved more than anything else in the entire world had given herself to him. The moment he'd dreamt of and fantasized about since he was fifteen when he'd first met her and felt his heart hurt whenever his gaze fell on her.

But this was never part of his imaginings. His heart and mind raced.

_What just happened here?_

He couldn't help but feel the panic rising up; the hurt at her abrupt departure from his embrace as if . . . as if she couldn't get away from him fast enough. When he had finished he opened his eyes and found her expression strained and flustered . . . and scared? The euphoria he'd been floating blissfully in vanished as his gaze fell on her face; replaced with uneasiness that swelled and threatened to suffocate him. He didn't know what it meant. He whispered to her; asking if she needed anything. But she ignored him.

He'd wanted to hold her, to press her body against his and tell her what this meant to him. But he'd felt her body go rigid and cold as she pulled away from his touch. A wall of invisible bricks went up between them and he felt chilled and frightened behind it.

Had he hurt her? Did he do something offensive? Wrong? He had tried to be gentle, but it was his first time and no matter how many videos online he'd seen, no matter how many nights he spent dreaming of it; nothing was like the reality of the act. He knew he wasn't experienced and had tried to be as smooth and gentle as he could. But there was the point where he'd lost all sense of logic and restraint and couldn't stop the frenzied bucking of his hips; couldn't slow down and control the movements like all the movies he'd seen; like the way he'd hoped he could be when he was finally with her.

His mouth went dry and he licked his bottom lip; could still taste her there; could smell her scent all over him and the rug; sweet and alluring; intoxicating. Still staring at the empty space next to him, the fear rose sharp and cut acutely through him like a well sharpened blade. If he'd been too rough, surely she'd have motioned for him to stop or given him some sort of sign that she was uncomfortable.

His cheeks reddened; maybe it was his ineptitude; his clumsy efforts that affronted her. He swallowed dryly. She couldn't blame him for his inexperience. Could she?

He clenched his fist and rested his forehead on it. He took in a shuddering breath. He had to calm down. She told him she loved him, had always loved him.

Still, the fear and insecurity remained; unrelenting and eating away at any logical reasoning he tried to use to abate it. He was sure he was gentle enough. But if he hadn't hurt her, then why did she look so . . .  _scared_?

He gulped as another option raised its ugly head and whispered its poison laced reasoning through his mind. What if . . . once she had him inside her, she decided that . . . it was too much? Too . . . different? Too . . . disgusting after all? He clenched his eyes tightly against the new gripping pain that squeezed his aching confused heart. What if he lost her for good, just when he finally had her? All because he couldn't control his lust.

 _Stupid. So stupid. You should have known better than to go so far so fast_.

But he couldn't help himself. He'd longed for her for so long. To hold her like that; to feel her arms around him; to be so close, so very close. And when she told him she'd always wanted him. He couldn't help but be overwhelmed.

But he cursed himself again for moving too fast; for being greedy and selfish. His breathing hitched. He succumbed to his desire only to have scared her off by his repulsive body. That had to be the reason behind her sudden cold departure.

No. He shook his head as tears burned the back of his eyes. No. It couldn't be that. She told him she  _loved_  him; despite what he looked like on the outside. But words meant nothing compared to the reality of the situation. He opened his eyes a crack and stared at his rough, calloused, three-fingered hand. The poisoned voice whispered inside him,  _You're a monster._   _You disgust her._  

He sat up and rubbed his eyes roughly with the heels of his hands.  _No. She_ loves _me. No matter what I am on the outside._  She said that. He didn't imagine those words.

He climbed to his feet and stood on wobbly legs and pushed away the exhaustion that made his eyelids droop. He half-stumbled, half-stepped into the hallway and stood outside the bathroom door. He heard the distinct sound of her sniffle and the acute pinprick of fear within him turned into a whirling hurricane of terror.

_Oh god. She's disgusted. Disgusted with having been with me. I've ruined everything._

"A…April?" he called softly and bit his quivering bottom lip to make it stop.

He leaned his weight against the bathroom door; clammy hands pressed against the wood paneling. He rested his cheek forward; pressing it into the door; wishing he could touch her; reassure himself that he was over-exaggerating the situation. Making things much worse than they actually were. It was just his fear of her rejecting him. His deep insecurities. That's all this was. That's all.

And yet the distance between them seemed to spread and open up into a chasm too far to breach. He felt his body trembling. He heard her sniff hard and blow her nose. She'd been crying. That was a fact.

His trembling turned into a shaking. He mouthed her name but only air came out. He didn't have the strength to form words. Exhaustion and dread dragged at him. His legs turned to jelly. The door was now effectively holding him upright.

Then he heard her voice, muffled through the door, "Just gonna shower off real quick. I put a pile of things on my bed, if you could grab them. Then I have to just print up the stuff I had ordered and prepared for Master Splinter and we can go, okay?"

Donatello frowned. This…this wasn't right. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Not after sharing what they had shared.  _Please._   _Talk to me, April._  What had he done wrong?

"Uh, okay, s…sure." What could he do? His mind raced. How could he fix this? "April," he paused and heard the squeak of the nozzle being turned on in the shower, "are-are . . . is everything . . . I mean . . . you okay?"

There was a pause. He held his breath; felt his heartbeat in his throat.

"M-hm."

His shoulders slumped. "April, what did I do?" he whispered, but heard the shower door snap shut and the sound of rushing water and he knew she couldn't hear him.

In a daze, he pushed away from the door and moved like a zombie into her room and gathered her belongings up in his arms. He shuffled into the living room and carefully placed them inside the large duffle bag he'd brought along. He moved into the kitchen and grabbed a few items he thought she'd like to bring to the lair; some notepads, her address book, her cell phone among other things. He knelt and placed them into the bag. He pulled the zipper closed and stared at the dark material.

His vision blurred suddenly as tears welled up and spilled over his cheeks. He sat on his knees shaking and doing nothing to wipe the wetness from his face as more and more tears welled up and slipped free. He'd never felt more lost and confused in his entire life. All he could keep asking himself was what did he do wrong?

The joy he'd experienced only minutes before was engulfed and eradicated by aching desperation and fear.

* * *

As the cool water poured down over her, April hugged her body tightly. She had to calm down. After all, she was the one who pushed him. If she hadn't offered herself up like that to him, he would've never . . .  _oh, god._  Why did she always have to rush things?

April pressed two hands to her forehead and took a deep breath. She should've known she wasn't quite ready to do what they'd just done. But like a fool, she plunged ahead.

Glancing over her shoulder at the door, she felt a deep twinge of guilt. She knew he was probably feeling a little confused out there in her apartment. And she felt bad for getting up and leaving him so abruptly right after having sex with him. She just needed a few minutes to compose herself.

April told herself he'd be fine. He was a guy after all.

With a sigh she replayed the last half hour over in her mind. It had felt so right at first. It was everything tender and sweet that being with Casey was not. He was so nervous and a little clumsy. He kept checking to see if she was alright and that was so sweet, but it continued to throw off his rhythm and then he'd overcompensate for it and it just became a jumbled, but earnest, attempt at making love. But it wasn't bad. She understood that he was in the middle of having his first experience. And it was sweet in its own way. She tried to move along with him and allow herself to be swept up in the romance of the experience.

And she was swept up in it. And it was wonderful, for a while.

But then, there was a moment, when her hand bumped the rim of his shell over his shoulder and her fingers touched it and ran along the rough edge that reality had come crashing down on her. She became hyper-aware that she was laying on her living room floor with a mutant turtle on top of her . . . inside of her. She freaked. She froze up and panicked a little. Well, more than a little. The old fears and prejudices rose up like a hideous shadow and overwhelmed all the good she'd been feeling only moments before.

What if someone saw them? What did this look like? Like she was having sex with a large animal? She flushed with shame at that last thought. Donatello was not an animal. If anything he was the furthest thing from it with his advanced intellect. Compared to him, she was nothing more than a hulking half-ape with limited intelligence.

She knew it was her own fault for letting it get the best of her, but at least she let him finish before freaking out completely. She'd wanted to jump up as soon as the odd sweeping feelings of fear and revulsion first flashed through her. And maybe she should have. Because letting him finish; somehow that was even worse. The thought of his . . . seed spilling into her really scared the hell out of her.

Why didn't she think of protection? She knew better than that. But her logical side calmly explained that there was nothing to worry about. It was his first time and there was no way they could be compatible as far as making children. As far as she knew. Doubt whispered frightening implications through her frantic mind. The thoughts sent a wave of shivers through her.

Bracing her hands against the wall of her shower, she let the cool water wash down over her head and shoulders.  _Get it together, girl. You're probably scaring the hell out of the poor guy._  She just needed a minute. Or two. Or twenty, to digest what she had done. To accept it. To let go of her fears. She thought she was ready. She was sure she was. She was determined not to mess things up between her and Donnie.

Her love for him was real. She just had to work through these ridiculous, groundless fears.

She raised her head. What she really needed was someone to talk to. She needed a friend who understood. Someone who could help her get over her stubborn fears. She wanted to be brave and bold. She wanted to give Donatello everything he deserved; but that rotten fear; what was it? The fear of doing something as unique and groundbreaking as loving and being with someone as special as Donatello?

If only she had someone to talk to. It hit her then. Of course. There  _was_  someone she could turn to. Someone who completely understood the situation better than anyone else in the entire world. And even better, that person was a woman.

Karai. She needed to talk to Karai.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, April stepped out from her bedroom dressed in jeans and a tied white button up shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a low pony tail. A stuffed manila envelope clutched in her hand.

Donatello stood by the front door. He looked exhausted and drained. There was an odd look on his face as he searched her expression for something.

She considered him for a moment then blinked and smiled at him in what she hoped was a reassuring expression. He looked like he was in the middle of deciphering a coded message full of surprising and yet perplexing information. His brow continued to come together then raise. It was almost comical, really. If she didn't feel so guilty about how she handled the situation a few minutes ago she would have joked about it.

Instead, she cleared her throat and looked around her living room. Her eyes glanced to the spot where they had lain together and quickly she averted her gaze.

She'd feel better once she spoke to Karai about her jangled emotions. In the meantime, there was always simple denial to help her through. She'd just pretend that everything was fine and what they did was nothing unusual at all. What could go wrong with that? Besides, it was only until she could talk out her mixed up feelings with a friend who understood and could offer support.

"I guess that's everything."

Donatello's gaze dropped to the floor. He opened his mouth and she braced herself for questions, but he only closed it and nodded. He adjusted the strap of the over-stuffed bag on his shoulder.

"Ready when you are," he said and his voice sounded strained and tight.

Together in silence they moved down the staircase of her apartment and then out to the alley to the manhole. Down in the tunnels, Donatello glanced at her, then the envelope in her arms. He cleared his throat.

"So, what did Splinter need you to print?" He asked in what he hoped was a casual tone. All the time wondering why she wasn't talking about their intimacy in her apartment. Still wondering what he'd done wrong and fearing that his body revolted her and that's why she wasn't even looking at him now. He gulped and fought back the hysterical voice that screamed in his mind that everything was ruined now that they'd had sex.

"Oh," her mouth hung open in an 'o' shape. "I really," she glanced down at it then at Donatello, then quickly away, shaking her head, "I promised Splinter I wouldn't say. It…It's about . . . well, it has something to do with Leonardo."

Donatello raised an eye brow then frowned. They continued on in silence. Lost in his swirling thoughts. Couldn't she tell him? Didn't lovers share everything? More confusion and fear filled him as they trudged on.

"You…You can trust me," he said finally, a bit haltingly, a bit defensively.

April didn't seem to catch the defensive tone. "Oh, I do, Don. I just, can't say anything. It's . . . I promised him. It's sort of private between you guys and I'm here just to help things along."

She sighed heavily as they moved on. Then after a few minutes she added, "I'm really not happy about this. But Splinter asked for my help. And after everything you guys have done for me. How could I refuse?" She paused. "To be honest, I'm upset, Don."

Donatello's footsteps faltered and he blinked up at her, thinking she meant what was going on between them. Gripping the strap of his bag with both hands he swallowed. His heart began to hammer uncomfortably inside his tightened chest.

Here it comes. Now he'd learn what happened. He braced himself for the worst. He only prayed she'd be honest and make it a clean kill.  _Just tell me you can't be with me ever again because I'm a freak and put me out of my misery._  When she didn't go on at first, he opened his mouth to question her about what she was alluding to, but her voice stopped him.

"No matter what Splinter says about giving him a challenge to rise up to, I still think he's  _punishing_  him."

Donatello's mouth snapped shut.  _Oh_. Not about them, then.  _I guess I have to just forget we even did anything,_  he thought feeling angry and upset as the fear turned to irritation. What was with her? Did it mean  _nothing_  to her? Because it had meant  _everything_  to him. Everything.

He clenched his jaw; feeling beyond exhausted by all the games, all the torment. He wanted it to end already. He was ready to accept whatever it was she wanted with him. He would take it, whatever came. He just wanted to understand what the hell was happening between them.

She'd gone on, oblivious to his frustration and rising anger. "…just for wanting to be with Karai. He's twenty-one for god's sake. I think it's unfair." She huffed angrily. "But I guess it doesn't matter what I think."

"It matters to me," Donatello said more to himself than her. His eyes widened as he realized he spoke aloud.

She smiled at him and reached out. The simple gesture sent him reeling. All the frustration and anger melted away to background noise. He stared at her outstretched hand uncomprehendingly.

Nervously, he took her hand in his, hoping she wouldn't notice how clammy his palm was or how his hand trembled before he gripped her fingers.

 _It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay,_  his mind frantically repeated, trying to reassure his thundering fear-filled heart, as he clung to her hand like a lifeline in the center of the storming emotions running uncontrolled and wild within him.

If anything, he was sure of one thing: she was going to be the death of him.

* * *

Since getting back to the lair, Raph hadn't moved from the chair that he'd pulled up next to his brother's bed. They had sat, one crouched on the floor near the foot of his bed, the other on the chair, watching their baby brother's body softly move up and down with each breath he took as he slept.

Leonardo had left to change into a light gray pair of pants and a black t-shirt. When he reentered the room, Raph was still there, still watching his brother sleeping. His elbows braced on his knees; head lowered looking almost as though he were in the middle of a silent prayer. And maybe he was.

Leonardo moved silently and stood next to his protective brother.

Guilt gnawed at him as his eyes moved past Raphael's lowered head to Mikey's bandages wrapped around the side of his face. The white cotton was tinged pink. This was his fault for not planning better. His fault for allowing his emotions to blind him to the surrounding danger that his brothers were placed in the center of. He should have planned their attack and advancement into the warehouse better. Should have anticipated gun fire. He was distracted and it nearly cost him a brother.

He sighed and it was a soft sound; barely a noise at all.

Was it really so much, what Master Splinter was asking of him? His father only wanted someone here who would look after and protect his children when he was gone. Leonardo had been groomed for this since Splinter named him leader of their small clan. Hadn't this been what all his training all these years had been about?

He didn't realize the gravity of all that it had meant at the time. He threw himself headlong into trying to do everything he could to live up the expectations of him. He gave it his all. Never questioning; never denying his father or brothers anything. The sacrifices that he'd been so willing to make; he never realized how simple they were compared to this. Never dreaming he'd have anything other than his family to live for. It had all been simple before.

And now his father was slowly dying and he had a choice to make. A choice he really had no voice in. It was already decided. It was decided the day he was given the position of leader. His chest felt tight and his head light; as if the two pieces of himself were being pulled and separated by different opposing forces.

Leonardo took another look at his two younger brothers and decided to give Raph and Mikey some space. He stepped quietly out of the room just as April and Donatello entered the lair.

Leonardo crossed the room and approached April. Donatello moved to take the bag to April's room. He nodded to his brother as he stepped around him. But said nothing else. His face was taunt and stiff.

For a moment, Leo tilted his head inquisitively at his brother as a familiar scent wafted past as he moved. Donatello smelled like April. And it was strong. As if . . . He blinked and glanced over his shoulder at the retreating figure of his brother back to April. She held a large envelope in her hands and looked a little pale. Leonardo chalked it up to her experiences of the last twenty-four hours. He moved closer to her and as he did he held his hands clutched lightly together in front of his chest. His dark blue eyes traveled up and met hers.

"April, I'm so sorry you had to go through this. Are you alright?" he asked gently.

She brushed away at the air with one hand. "I'm fine, Leo. Really. Don't worry about me."

She reached over and patted him on the cheek. As she did, he detected Donatello's scent, though light, on her skin. He blinked and frowned softly. But if they had been together, why did he sense a strain between them? His brother seemed off . . . distracted and something else. And April didn't seem exactly happy either. He was thoroughly confused now. His eyes moved to the large manila envelope in her hands.

"Uh, is that for Sensei? I…I can give that to him for you. You should go sit down and rest," he held out his hand for the thick envelope and April flinched back.

"N-No, Leo. I . . . It's fine. I'm fine. I need to talk to him anyway." She glanced around the lair and finding it empty, her gaze then moved back to him. "So, have you seen her since last night?" she asked in a low voice.

The question took him by surprise. He quickly dropped his face into a blank mask and feigned innocence and ignorance. His eyes flitted around the room, everywhere but at her.

"Leo, it's okay. There's no secret about what you did. We all know you rescued her. And I'm so glad you did."

He blinked in surprise at that. The blank mask gone in an instant at her supportive words.

"You did the right thing. Don't you ever question it. We were both so scared in that room. She could've easily tried to hurt me if she were bad. But she didn't. She tried to protect me in there, Leo. And they were going to do terrible things to her." She closed her eyes for a moment and shuddered. "The things they showed us. The things that woman and man were saying they had planned for her . . ."

She watched as Leonardo's face turned a strange shade of pale green then gray. He swayed on his feet a little and she dropped what she was going to say next. Instead, she went on with something she thought would make him feel better, "She also told me . . ."

Leonardo held his breath as his heart sped up. He felt dizzy and frightened and hopeful and sick all at once.

"Well, for one thing, she told me she tried to help set you free when you were captured by the Foot. And…And she," April took Leonardo by the elbow and steered him closer to the entrance of the lair where they stood in the shadows in one corner. She took in a breath, looked him in the eye and then said slowly, "Leo, she told me she loves you."

He stumbled forward as his knees buckled and a stunned April grabbed him by the elbows to steady him. The envelope dropped to the ground. She had no idea the simple statement would've affected him so dramatically. Part of her regretted saying it so bluntly.

But immediately, he righted himself; embarrassed and flustered. He straightened up and blinked rapidly; cleared his throat.

"It's okay, Leo. It's okay."

He only nodded and she saw his throat work. His eyes seemed huge and bright even in the shadows. "Thank you," his throat tightened and he choked out the next words, "for telling me that."

"I know it's a strong word for not really knowing her, but I sort of, count her as a friend, now."

"Y-You  _do_?"

She nodded. She stooped and picked up the envelope from the floor. April tilted her head and looked at him. The expression on his face melted her heart. He looked so relieved. So hopeful. The envelope in her hands grew heavier and heavier. She steeled herself and looked him in the eye once more, though it was hard, holding the contents of the envelope and knowing what Splinter was going to ask of him in the morning.

"So, please, tell me. Is Karai okay?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He nodded. "I . . . I'm going to see her tonight. To talk to her," he added quickly. With a quick glance through the lair over his shoulder, he turned back to April and went on, his face falling into an expression suddenly like despair and desperation, "B-But I'm going to have to tell her . . . that I c-can't . . . we can't . . ."

April frowned. But before Leonardo could go on, the gentle tap, tap, tap, of Master Splinter's cane interrupted them. A flash of panic flitted through Leo's eyes and April took his shoulders and turned him to the door.

"Go on, while you've got the chance."

Leonardo grabbed his long black coat from the peg near the entrance and slipped away before Splinter saw him leave.

* * *

Karai sat on the edge of her bed. She was wrapped in a silk robe patterned with white and gold outlines of large flowers and vines throughout the fabric. For a moment, she closed her eyes and just absorbed the sound of her father's voice. She didn't care that he was rattling off strategic plans of how the Foot was going to strike Venom in the upcoming weeks and what revenge he'd extract for what they'd done to his daughter. Karai noticed he never asked of how she managed to escape. But she didn't think on it long. She was just happy to hear the sound of his voice. It was strong yet she detected the hint of strain around the edges.

She boldly interrupted him. "Yes, father. But what I want more than anything is to have you rest."

There was a pause.

 _"More than anything,"_  he repeated slowly. And Karai felt a pool of unease.  _"Something tells me that is not exactly what you wish for, daughter."_

Karai stiffened. He knew her too well. With a sigh she rubbed her forehead. Now was not the time to address the fact that she was done for good with the Foot clan. That was what she was sure he was hinting at. That he had guessed her intentions of leaving the organization. Never thinking that he had witnessed her rescue at Leonardo's hands; and what that may have meant. She didn't want to argue with him. Not while their wounds both physical and mental were so fresh. Not while she and he both were so vulnerable.

Then again . . . maybe this was the perfect time. She shook her head. "I don't want to fight with you, father. Not tonight. Please. Just tell me you are going to rest."

_"I will rest after we discuss things. I will see you tomorrow. We can talk then."_

"Wh-What?"

Her father was here? In New York? Her stomach sank.

The cell phone reception grew weak and static filled the ear piece. Karai grimaced. She shouted goodbye and hung up. Oh, wonderful. She stood and slipped her feet into the silk slippers next to her bed that matched her robe and strode through her apartment. She needed some air. The night would be chilled this late in October, but she didn't care.

She closed the door of her apartment and slipped to the roof access stairwell just as a shadow fell across her kitchen window.

 

 


	19. Sayonara or Since it must be so

_"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."_  – Kahlil Gibran

* * *

 _"It is a simple acceptance of fact. All understanding of life lies in its limits. All emotion, smoldering, is banked up behind it. But it says nothing. It is really the unspoken good-by, the pressure of a hand, 'Sayonara.'"_  –Anne Morrow Lindbergh

* * *

 

Leonardo slipped through the window and crept through the darkened kitchen. His footsteps made no sound as he gazed around the room. He was aware of every creak and whir of the appliances, listening for any sound of Karai's presence. He moved through the apartment with a slow sinking pull of regret. 

She wasn't here. The thought was solid and cold; weighing firm and unrelenting in his mind. He had his chance and he missed it. Foolish fear kept him from saying what he needed to when he had the chance, and now, it was gone. He stood in the doorway of her bedroom and her scent, of cherry blossoms and something woody, earthy, filled the still air. 

He closed his eyes as he rested his hand on the door frame, steadying himself. If only he'd stayed when he had the chance earlier.

His eyes opened and rested on a notepad near her bed. Should he just leave a note? With a sigh he turned. He wouldn't even know where to begin. Hell, he didn't even really know what he wanted to say to her. He moved like a ghost through her small apartment and slipped out of the kitchen window to the fire escape; deciding to wait for a while on the roof. It was late, she'd be returning soon, he was sure. He just needed to be patient.

The chilled night air whipped at his pant legs as he climbed. Gusts of wind laced with the promise of colder nights ahead made the bottom of his black coat snap and billow out around him. The sound of the wind buffeting against the building blocked out the raw sounds of the city beyond; the traffic; the sirens; the general sound of people moving from one point to another were all muffled by the soft, yet powerful whooshing. With silent grace, he climbed up and pulled himself over the edge of the roof.

A soft gasp from behind him brought every sense into sharp focus. He ducked instinctively, but turned, slowly. Knowing who it was before he even saw her. Relief, fear and trepidation filled him. The moment was upon him.

Karai stood, across the expanse of the shadowy roof, looking small and surreal in a black silk robe and matching slippers. Her bare white arms stood out in the darkness; he saw they were wrapped around herself; holding tight. The dark locks of her hair flipped and waved over one shoulder as the wind played with it, tantalizing him with its intimacy of her.

He didn't need to see her face to know she'd been crying. He could sense it in the way she stood; the broken cadence of her breathing. Just as he knew she'd hide it from him; as soon as he stepped forward she straightened and quickly wiped at her face.

"Leonardo," she said and her quiet voice carried on the wind and kissed his heart with a deep pang. That one spoken word held so much in its tone; relief; desire; happiness; fear.

He stood with his mouth parted slightly; staring at her. His mind a blank. His pulse racing. The wind making the bottom of his coat billow and snap to one side of his legs.

The silence between them stretched out. He didn't know what to say; didn't come prepared. He'd only meant to say goodbye. But there was so much more to say; too much. He'd expected it to hurt, to be frightening and sad, when he came to her tonight to say goodbye. He never expected the sudden storm of fury that rose up inside him.

Before he knew what was happening, he strode across the roof and was on her; gripping her upper arms in his strong hands; holding her close and yet keeping her away from him; as she tried to move closer, he held her where she stood; all the while wanting to crush her to him. Her arms felt so fragile and delicate in his grip. Karai looked up into his burning eyes and he saw the confusion and fear written in her dark eyes. Eyes he'd dreamt of for two years.

He glanced down at her mouth; her quivering lips; slightly swollen from crying; from the beating she took only a few hours before. He pushed away the flare of pity and heated desire to press against those lips; to comfort and hold her. He needed answers first. He spent two years convincing himself that what they had was all a lie; two years of nightmares mixed with memories confused and blighted by fear and despair.

 _"Tell me,"_  he choked out, his voice thick and not sounding like himself at all, "I want to hear it from you."

Lost, she shook her head, not comprehending what he wanted from her.

He shook her a little; felt her trembling violently in his grasp. His own bottom lip quivered as his control was slipping. The light in his eyes became intense as unshed tears built. She turned her face away and closed her eyes as she opened her mouth and a small sound squeezed out. Again, he pushed away the urge to embrace her; to run his mouth along her throat, to taste her skin; to offer any comfort to her.

No, he had to be strong. He deserved answers. He shook her a little again and brought her focus back to him.

"I need to hear it from you," he repeated through gritted teeth; his voice agonized and harsh. His desperate eyes flashed between hers; searching.

Understanding dawned; rising up from the fog of fear she felt.

"I . . . I had nothing to do with your . . . capture," she began; her voice soft and breaking at first then getting stronger and she felt his arms start to tremble, felt his hold ease then tighten. "I . . . should have done more to protect you. I wanted to. I couldn't get to you. But it . . . it was never a trap."

So, it was true.

His eyelids dropped as he clamped his eyes shut; nodding. "Donatello told me. I needed to hear you say it."

He released her and looked away; feeling guilty for being so rough; feeling not quite relieved, more empty than satisfied. He'd wanted to believe for so long, even against his own logic, his heart had held on, stubbornly holding onto a love that was impossible; and now he knew the truth. But there was no victory here. No winner. Two years had gone by and the damage had been done. Both of them were poised to lose; had already lost. He wondered who would lose more at this point, then brushed the useless thought from his mind. It didn't matter.

Whatever they were; it was over.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her reach out to him. Her fingers brushed his arm and he moved away; shifted slightly so she never made contact with him. He turned his face towards her; but didn't meet her eye.

"Leonardo, I . . . I'm so sorry. Let's go downstairs and talk."

He stood unmoving. Part of him wanted nothing more than to follow her into her apartment and talk the night away; and more. If she'd have him; despite his bleak feelings; if she'd have him, he'd give himself to her. And he wondered about that, but only briefly before smothering the flicker of hope that sparked in his bruised heart.

No, it was over between them. It was impossible. Had been from the very start. He was a fool then, only a child, really; with no idea of the price this love would cost him.

Besides all that, the decision he'd been forced to accept weighed on him and he didn't want to make this parting harder than he needed to. He heard what he needed to. He had to let it go. As Raphael said, he needed to be strong and do what was right. He had to let her go. It was best if he just left things as they were. It was the closest thing to closure he would ever get, he decided. He brought his eyes up.

"No," he said quietly but in a final tone.

She stood, shivering in the night air and looking absolutely miserable. Then her face came down into a frown; eyes narrowed and flashing.

 _"No?"_  she repeated in a clipped voice and shook her head.

He turned away and closed his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her pain. She'd been through enough. It was not his intent to inflict misguided revenge in her direction. There was no one more at fault than the other. They were both just children at the time. Innocent and foolish. Neither really knew what they were doing when they stumbled into this mess together; this tangle of hurt and desire, despair and longing named love. But it seemed like there was no clean way to do this. He held up one hand in surrender.

"No, Karai," he said more firmly.

Leonardo pitched forward as he felt her hands push hard against his shoulder and shell. The follow-up to the shove she gave him was a kick aimed at his face that he barely dodged. With wide eyes, he brought his arms up to block the volley of jabs and punches she swung at him. She snarled as she swung at him. His feet shuffled back with each block. The wind blew Karai's hair around her head and into her face making her pause in her attack.

Leonardo caught his breath and frowned at her. His hands were in fists at his sides. "That's enough!" he barked at her, but the wind stole the power from his voice.

She only glared out from behind a heavy fringe of dark bangs.

He didn't want to fight with her! Not after what she'd just been put through. She took a step forward and he moved his feet into a defensive pose; bringing his fists up. But he wouldn't be her punching bag, either. Her leg shot out and swept around, aimed for his ankle, but he jumped back; quick and agile. Coming up to stand only to block again the lightning quick blows aimed for his face with his forearms; knocking her fists away.

He would not attack; but he was getting angrier with each swing. He swore under his breath.

_"Karai! Enough!"_

A jab clipped him before he could effectively dodge it completely. His bottom lip smashed against his teeth and split. The salty, copper flavor of blood flooded the tip of his tongue. He grunted and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He clenched his jaw and glared at her. His breath came out in a huff between gritted teeth. He was determined not to fight back, but his chest was heaving and the adrenaline was making the muscles in his arms and legs bunch; bracing to attack. He shook his head at her in warning.

A soft but triumphant smirk, playful and reminiscent of their early days when they'd meet on a random rooftop and immediately begin to spar and fight, slid across her face. A cutting pang of sentimentality and longing sliced through Leonardo in that momentary flicker. But the look was gone in an instant, along with the glittering mischief in her eyes. Her face dropped into a blank mask. Her eyes sad and serious now.

She said nothing as she feinted with her left fist. As he moved to block, she brought her leg out again in a sweeping arc, this time connecting and knocking against his ankles. She spun and threw a kick that landed square in his chest. The air forced out from his lungs with a pained grunt. It threw him backwards onto the roof.

His shell slammed into the side of the stairwell shelter before sliding down to the ground. He saw stars flash before his eyes as the back of his head hit the wooden wall. He groaned and eased up on one elbow. Karai was on him before he could move; straddling his chest and pushing him back and down.

He scowled up at her and she leaned forward; pressed her hands into his shoulders. He opened his mouth to tell her to get off him when her lips pressed down onto his; pushing his head back with the force of her passion. He tasted her tears, the blood from the cut on his lip, the sweetness of her unique taste.

A powerful burst of emotions and memories rushed through him and vaporized the shallow anger of their fight. His already swiftly beating heart raced even faster in his tightened chest. Without thinking, his hands slid up the sides of her arms and his fingers found the back of her head, where he bunched the silky strands of her hair between them. They moved to her shoulders and his arms wrapped around her back as he crushed her down into him. He felt her hands go to the side of his face, stroking his cheeks. She continued to press her soft lips into his mouth. He felt her tongue brush his; a pang of urgent desire struck painfully within him.

When she broke away, she was trembling all over. He stared up at her dumbstruck and blinking. The breath stolen from him.

"Come downstairs with me," she said softly but firmly.

He could only shake his head numbly.

* * *

April handed the envelope to Master Splinter. He nodded as it took it from her.

"Very good. I thank you for this, Ms. O'Neil. For everything you are offering. Your part is almost done. But it is an essential one."

She opened her mouth and the look he shot her made her snap it shut. She said nothing, dropping her eyes with a sigh.

"Please trust that I have my children's best intentions at heart."

"Of course, I . . . Of course," she repeated lamely.

She watched him turn, then enter Leonardo's room as she sat heavily on the edge of the couch; feeling regret and conflicting emotions about the part she was to play in Master Splinter's punishment hidden under the guise of a "training". But she couldn't interfere. She had tried to voice her opinion on the matter several times. The only one who seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, was Donnie.

She smiled to herself and wondered where he'd been. Then remembered he had the virus to complete to eradicate that awful video of Karai and Leo.

She ran a hand through her hair and stood up. She moved into the kitchen. Gathering a pan and turning on the burner, she decided to make them all something to eat. It had been a long, exhausting day for all of them. She glanced at the clock on the wall and wondered if Leonardo was at Karai's apartment. Silently, she hoped they were okay. He seemed very upset just before he left. Again, she wished that she had nothing to do with tomorrow morning's announcement. But then again, she could try her best to make it as easy as possible for her dear friend. A friend who was very much like a brother to her.

Raphael entered the kitchen a few minutes later. The smell of bacon frying must have lured him from his younger brother's side.

"How is Mikey doing?"

He shrugged. "Still sleepin'."

April set out a few plates and opened the bag of bread. She slid a few slices into the toaster, then turned and sliced a tomato.

Raphael watched her in silence. The fingers on one hand tapped impatiently on the table.

April glanced up at him and chuckled. "I'm frying this up as fast as I can."

Raphael blinked then looked down at his hand and stopped the motion.

"Uh, yeah. No. That's not what I meant . . ."

She wiped her hands on a tattered hand towel and raised her eyebrows. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Clearly, he had something on his mind. She braced one hand on her hip, waiting.

"Can I ask you somethin'? Uh, kinda personal?" He stared at the empty plate in front of him and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He shifted in his seat as he waited for an answer. He seemed unusually agitated for just being alone in the quiet lair as he fidgeted in his seat. She wondered if it had something to do with Mikey's injury.

"Of course, Raphael. What's on your mind?"

She folded her arms, mirroring Raphael's action. He kept his head lowered but raised his penetrating eyes up to meet hers. She mentally braced herself.  _What the hell is that look about?_

"Do you love 'em?"

She was taken aback both at the unexpectedness of it as well as the bluntness of the question. For a moment she could only stare at him; lips parted in surprise.  _What the hell?_  Then she turned abruptly and moved the bacon around in the pan with the spatula where it sizzled and popped; hissing at her. When she turned back to him he still sat in the same position with the same look on his face; determined to get his answer. She lifted her hands and dropped them to her sides; flustered.

"I . . . I'm not sure…"

"Donnie," he cut her off. "I'm talkin' about my brother for Christ's sake." He slapped his hands down on the table and April jumped. He lifted his right hand up and held it on its side. "Who the hell do ya think I meant?"

Sputtering, April pressed her lips together to make the stupid sounds coming from her stop. "I  _know_  who you were referring to. That isn't fair, Raph. You and . . . and . . ."

"Casey," he spat.

She nodded, clearly getting more and more uncomfortable. "Yes. You and Casey were so close, I thought for a minute, you meant him," she explained feebly.

Raphael's hard gaze never wavered. "I asked a simple question."

She turned away, feeling angry and cornered, as she scooped the bacon out of the pan and threw it onto a plate then slid it roughly in front of him. She moved to leave the kitchen when Raphael hastily stood up. He took two steps and was in front of her; blocking her exit. Even though he was shorter than her by a few inches, his persona seemed larger than her and she shrunk away from the powerful aura; not to mention the bulk of his muscular form.

Out of all of them, he was the broadest in shoulders, biggest in simply mass of muscles. He could intimidate a lion with a look if he wanted to. She stepped back. Her back hit the refrigerator. She squeaked.

"You ain't gonna  _answer_?" he asked with an unbelieving scowl at her.

"It's really none of your business, Raph," she spat, despite her nervous fear swirling in the pit of her stomach. Though she knew none of them would ever, ever hurt her, he was still very intimidating. His face darkened and she could feel the tension crackling around him. She sputtered, "B-But yes. Yes, alright? It's none of your freaking business but yes, I love him. Satisfied?"

"No, not really." He put his hands on his hips. "Casey thought you loved him to, but you had no problem throwing him to the side," he snapped his fingers in her face, "like that. And you're right. Me and Casey were close. Still are." He narrowed his eyes and April gulped. "But he ain't my  _brother_. Got it?"

He let that sink in for a moment then continued, as he pointed in the direction of Donatello's lab. "I don't wanna see my brother hurt more than he has been already. I ain't gonna let it happen."

April blinked. "If you think you can scare me away from him . . ."

Raphael chuckled and stepped back as he shook his head.

"Nah, I ain't trying to break you two up." He pointed at her as he went on, "I'm just warnin' ya, that you better not hurt 'em. Got it?"

April clenched her jaw and a few choice responses filled her mind. But she bit them back.

There was something honest and endearing about Raphael's desire to protect Donatello. And after what went down between her and his best friend, she understood his fear and worry. She'd just have to prove to him that she was in this for the long haul and had no intention of breaking Donatello's heart. She gave him a curt nod and an uneasy smile.

"Got it. Loud and Clear."

He stared at her for a few moments; considering her response. Finally, he nodded and turned back to the table. He sat down heavily and piled most of the still sizzling bacon onto his plate with one hand. He licked his fingers and nodded to himself.

"Okay. S'long as we're straight." He glanced sideways at her with those green eyes; seeing more than she ever gave him credit before. "Cuz the kid's wild about you. Been that way since he first saw ya."

April moved a bit shakily to the table and lowered herself into a seat across from Raphael. She closed her eyes and huffed as a smile played across her face.

"Yeah, I know. Believe it or not, I've felt the same for him."

With half-squinted eyes he considered her; mouth full of bacon and bread, no tomato. He gave a small nod but then shook his head as if he thought she was crazy.

"I know. Took ya long enough to admit it."

* * *

Karai moved to stand in the middle of her living room. Behind her Leonardo stepped inside. She looked over her shoulder then turned to him. He stood frozen, as she slid his coat from his shoulders and took it from him. She clutched it to her chest for a moment while her eyes took in his appearance; his clothes. She couldn't help but think how handsome he looked in the clothes that hugged his chest and arms, the wide legged pants that seemed to suit him perfectly.

Quickly, she hung his coat on a peg and gestured for him to sit. "Can I get you something? Tea?"

Leonardo sat, bracing his elbows on his knees and nodded. "Tea, thank you."

Karai took the opportunity to steady herself in the kitchen as she quickly brought a kettle of water to boil. She patted her forehead and concentrated on breathing in and out in slow steady breaths, despite the rapid hammering of her heart. He was here. He was in her apartment. He almost left. She had to keep him here until he understood how she felt for him.

Her hand shook slightly and the tea-cup rattled offensively, giving away her nervousness as she placed it in front of Leonardo. He dipped his head and quietly thanked her again. She sat across from him in a petite armchair. Their eyes met and dropped away.

Leonardo was a statue in his seat. Karai shifted and squirmed where she sat.

"Thank you for coming inside."

"Thank you for the tea."

She nearly slapped her forehead in frustration. Really, how many times would they thank each other? Where once there was easy conversation and silence, now only awkward invisible ruins of walls blocked every attempt she made to get closer. This was ridiculous.

Finally, after sitting for what seemed an embarrassingly long time staring at her tea as Leonardo was doing, her patience fled. She was about to say something when he reached for his tea.

There on his wrist, the tattoo. Her initial.

She felt the world tilt as she realized he'd kept it. He could have removed it. If she were in his place, she probably would have cut it off her skin. But no, he'd kept it. She felt her heart melt. How often did he look at that and wonder? How much pain did it cause him? How much comfort, if any?

With a soft cry, she let go of all her dignity and honor. She fell to her knees and shuffled to him. Her slippers slipped off her feet.

Leonardo lurched back, eyes widening and his breath hitched as she leaned against his legs, her arm wrapping around the side of his leg, her hand resting on the top of his knee. Her head tipped back to look up at his face.

"I'm so glad you came back," she breathed; pressing her arms around the sides of his legs.

He opened his mouth only to close it again. Slowly, he rested his hand upon hers on his knee. A shiver went through her and he noticed.

"I'm glad that you were . . . unharmed." His eyes roved over her face only to linger at the bandages at the base of her throat. His face pinched in sympathy.

 _"My hero,"_ she whispered.

His eyes snapped back to hers. He looked like he wanted to say something then. Something painful. But he remained silent.

"I missed you, every day." She paused, "my heart hurt every day I was in Japan . . . away from you."

"Karai," her name slid from his mouth, desperate and full of desire.

He leaned forward and kissed her, but she broke away. Her hands moved to his sides. Slowly she stood up and pulled him up to stand in front of her. Her fingertips moved up his arms, around his shoulders, down the front of him to the waist band of his pants. He trembled. His eyes searched hers as she gazed at him.

Slowly, she slid his pants down over his hips, her hands caressing the sides of his thighs as she eased the clothing down. He heard her soft gasp as her eyes found the criss-crossing scars that her father had given him with the bull-whip two years ago. Her shining eyes followed the path of the lines then up to meet his.

"Leonardo," she said shaking her head slowly as her fingertips gently traced one of the more raised scars. Her eyelids fluttered as two tears spilled free. He reached down to stop her hands but she shook her head softly.

"It…It's okay," he whispered.

She only shook her head as her throat worked. "No, Watashi no ai," she breathed and began to press her lips to the lines of scars.

His breath hitched at the intimate and bold endearment. A tremor went through him and then another as Karai continued to gently caress and kiss along the lines and ridges that patterned his thighs and legs. She murmured soft, wordless sounds between kissing the scars. When she looked up again, her face was streaked with tears.

He reached down and helped her stand. As she moved, her hands reached under his shirt and carefully pulled it up and over his head. She tossed it to one side, then taking his hand, she turned and led him towards her bedroom.

He hesitated just inside her door. She released his hand and turned to him.

Leonardo knew he was only making this much worse than it had to be. What was he thinking? He came here to say goodbye; to hear that what they had shared in another lifetime was not a deception. Then let her go. He got what he came here for, it was time to leave. Before things became more complicated than he could handle.

But his feet remained glued to the floor. His eyes trained on her face. His heart constricted as he looked at her. In the dim moonlight coming through the window, she looked as beautiful as an angel. He felt the magnetic pull of her beauty and his longing for her. Felt the terrible need raging through him. His fists quivered at his sides.

Master Splinter had given him until morning to announce his decision to his family. He had tonight to himself. One night. This last night to be with her; to cherish; to keep with him forever. Maybe it was selfish. A stab of guilt went through him. But he didn't think he could go on living without this . . . not knowing that she loved him. He couldn't walk away from her now.

It would kill him if he did.

As if she could sense his momentary doubt, she slowly undid the belt of her robe.

"I want you to stay," she pleaded softly. "Please, don't leave me."

He stepped towards her as the robe slipped from her shoulders. His burning eyes took in every curve, every line, remembering and drinking in the sight that he'd dreamt of for some many nights. Overwhelming desire warmed him, but his mind stayed cool and detached as it warned him that he was going to regret not telling her the truth.

That this could not go on. That he'd been made to choose between his duty to his family and his only love. That there was never even a choice made, that if he could've chosen, it would be her, every time. Forever. Her eyes stared up into his with such longing it hurt him.

Just tonight. One night for himself. To keep. To treasure.

He was never good at lying. But in that desperate moment, he lied with all his heart. "I'll never leave you, watashi no ai," he murmured and dropped his face down to kiss her deeply.

She fell into his arms, losing all control as he held her and laid her back onto the bed. She cried out as she felt his arms and body tremble.

* * *

When their passions were spent and long hours passed filled with embracing and caressing, kissing and murmuring loving devotions; with heated bouts of fiery desire then back to the tender, affection-filled love making; they slept, clinging to each other; limbs entangled, holding tight.

As Leonardo slept he dreamed.

In his dream he stood where the wind swept over sloping hills of open land. Waving in the wind, soft feathery tops of rice plants grew as tall as his waist. Purple snow-capped mountains, misty and faded, lined the horizon to one side. The distant sound of the ocean's waves came to him from the other. He reached out and brushed the soft stems of rice plants.

The sun warmed his back and he blinked up at it. Blinded for a moment, his watering eyes refocused on the porch of a small house he stood suddenly in front of. It was situated in the center of a well-tended yard filled with gardens overflowing with colorful flowers and twisting vines. A short, cherry tree with low, wide branches was in full blossom in the front yard. Through the waves of pink petals, he moved and came to see a woman seated on the porch, weaving a basket. Her head lowered, he saw her hair was dark with streaks of white throughout.

She suddenly raised her head and he gasped when he saw that he knew her. Knew her with every heartbeat; knew her as he knew his own soul. It was Karai. She was smiling up at him.

When he stepped towards her, he realized it was not him her smile was given to, but someone behind him. The warm welcoming smile full of love was not for him. He turned and saw a man wearing simple linen clothing; long sleeves that hung past his hands; walking up the path. A wide, woven hat kept his features hidden.

Leonardo felt the world shift and tilt around him. He felt dizzy with the painful blow of his revelation. It was Karai's future. Of that he was sure. And while he felt the bittersweet joy that she'd find happiness one day, the hurt speared him as real as any injury he'd sustained in bloody battle. But as he turned back to Karai, to see her one last time in her glorious happiness before the dream faded; two children burst forth from the doorway; their faces a blur. Though he tried to, he could not make out their faces.

Leonardo felt the shock reverberate through his very spirit as his eyes focused lower, on the chubby green limbs and plump three-fingered hands reaching up and out from beneath white linen sleeves. He heard their sweet voices like music calling for  _"Daddy!" "Daddy!"_  

He slowly blinked as the man gathered them up in his arms. He raised himself up to stand and his face emerged from beneath the wide brim of the hat.

Leonardo gasped as he stared at his reflection.

* * *

The pillow was wet from his tears as his eyes shot open. He reached for Karai but found the bed empty. A moment of panic was quickly subdued as the sound of water from the shower made him realize where his love had gone to. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the dream he'd just been in. It had been so vivid.

But the only thing that remained was the feeling of immense joy and the sensation of the sun warming him. He frowned as he tried to recall what had made him so emotional that he'd been crying in his sleep, but like silk ribbons running between his fingers, the images from the dream slid away. The harder he tried to recall the images the more faded they became until he had nothing left.

Frustrated, he rolled onto his shell, the back of one hand resting against his forehead. Blearily, he wondered what time it was. He raised himself up and turned his head towards the clock on her night stand.

A hand gripped him tightly across his throat and squeezed.

He was shoved back onto the mattress and pinned. His legs were tangled in the blankets. A knee was planted firmly in his groin. He struggled but felt the bite of something sharp against his stomach. He froze as he realized it was the bite of twin blades pressed hard enough to draw blood. He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, not believing what he was seeing.

Was he still asleep? This had to be a nightmare! He choked and struggled against the man's grasp but the Shredder's grip only tightened; pushing him deeper into the softness of the mattress.

"It would be a terrible thing for my daughter to find you gutted in her bed, Leonardo. I would advise you to calm yourself."

His deep, low voice was the voice Leonardo had heard echoing through his worst nightmares. Ice and heat washed through him. He bucked and struggled, but couldn't get himself any leverage. His breath hitched as the Shredder pushed the knuckle blades a bit more into his plastron. Leonardo could feel the small beads of blood turn into trickles as it welled and spilled along his body to the mattress below.

It took every ounce of control he had in him, but he willed his body to go still. A tremor went through him, then another, before he finally went limp beneath the Shredder.

"That's better."

The Shredder eased his fingers from Leonardo's throat, but kept his blades where they were. The Shredder tilted his head for a moment, listening and Leonardo froze in terror as he prayed that Karai was still in the shower. After a moment the blood rushing through his ears let up enough so that he heard the water still running.

The Shredder's gaze came back to Leonardo and it was black and full of disgust. His hair was matted and sweat glistened across the man's forehead. The silver mask hid the rest of his expression, but Leonardo did not need to see it to understand that Karai's father was full of revulsion at finding him in his daughter's bed. Again, the flash of fear went through him as he wondered what would happen to Karai.

 _"Don't . . . hurt her,"_  Leonardo heard himself say through clenched teeth.

He glared silently at Leonardo. "The only reason you are not bleeding out on this bed, is that you rescued my daughter from a dishonorable fate . . . when I was unable to."

Leonardo strained to hear what the Shredder was saying over the rapid staccato of his heart and the racing of his mind trying to work out a way to get himself and Karai away from her father.

"For that, you have been given a reprieve. However, I will not tolerate this going forward." His black eyes bore into Leonardo's. "I will give you a choice, so listen carefully. If you continue to pursue Karai, I will put an end to it. An end that I wish to avoid." His blood-shot eyes glimmered with dark malice in the low morning light.

"You can join the Foot Clan as Karai's," he paused, "bodyguard and special recruit of mine. You have skills that would serve me well. I will cease my vendetta against Hamato Yoshi."

Leonardo blinked and told himself not to trust this man, this devil, no matter what he promised.

"Your family will be safe . . . and  _you_  can stay close to my daughter." His eyes narrowed and Leonardo swallowed dryly. After a moment, he went on, "And if she should want to keep you as some sick . . . consort and continue this," his eyes crinkled with what Leonardo could only guess was a look of pure disgust, "deviant behavior with you, it is of no concern to me. However, if you refuse me, and continue to pursue her, you will force me," he dug the ends of his blades a bit deeper and Leonardo couldn't help but squirm beneath him, biting his tongue to keep from making a sound, "to remove Karai permanently from the equation."

Leonardo's eyes bounced between Shredder's. Did he mean . . .? Waves of icy fear swept through him.

"Do not doubt me, freak. This little obsession Karai has with you has cost the Foot Clan incalculable damage. I cannot allow this to continue. I will do what is necessary to secure my legacy."

His eyes became distant and empty and his voice soft and hollow, "Yes, I will do what is needed." He turned his blank eyes to Leonardo's terrified gaze. "After that, I will hunt you down. Night and day until I find and capture your father and brothers. I will torture them slowly in front of you. What I did to you will seem like some sweet dream compared to what I will do to them. The echoes of their howls of pain and pleas for death will fill your mind before I finally allow you to die."

With that he sat back and Leonardo scrambled up and away from him. He leapt to the side of the bed. He was weaponless and terrified for Karai.

His eyes darted around the room, looking for something he could use as a weapon. One hand pressed against the shallow wound in his stomach. The Shredder rose slowly to his feet and for the first time, Leonardo noticed the red splotch on the side of his shirt, near his shoulder on his chest. A wound that was now bleeding through the bandages and material of the Shredder's uniform. Even with that wound his strength amazed and intimidated Leonardo.

"You have a day to contact me if you wish to join, otherwise I will take it that you've ended any relations with my daughter."

"I won't leave here without Karai."

The Shredder raised an eyebrow and slid his spiked gauntlet from his hand. He dropped it to the floor. He shrugged nonchalantly. "If I were to kill her simply for being with you, don't you think I would have done so already?"

When Leonardo stood frozen, unsure, he went on with a sigh in a voice that sounded tired and surprisingly normal, "I am her father, Leonardo. I would not harm her unless I had no other choice." He looked at him pointedly as Leonardo turned.

Leonardo closed his eyes and slipped out the window just as Karai entered the room; a towel wrapped around her body and her wet hair. Carefully, he positioned himself so that he could listen, just above the window, determined that if Shredder moved to hurt her, he would rush inside and stop him.

"F-Father!? Wh-What are you doing here?" her voice rose.

"Good morning, Karai."

Beneath him, he heard the window snap open wider, saw the top of her head as she cast around, looking for him. Then she looked up, their eyes met. Understanding passed between them and Karai, mouthed  _'go'_  to him.

He shook his head. Karai's mouth pressed into a thin line.

She popped back inside and slammed the window shut. The wall beneath him shook with the force of it. He crept around to the fire escape and saw through the window the Shredder removing his mask and sitting down, looking pained, in one of her chairs.

* * *

Inside, Karai moved with jerking motions as she raced around picking up Leonardo's clothing and stopped only for a moment to press her face into the bundle of his clothes, clutched to her chest. She gathered her strength and quickly got dressed.

"I wasn't expecting you, so early, father," she said as she quickly put on a fresh kettle of tea. "Really wished you would've called first," she murmured under her breath.

Saki raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She paused and wondered if he somehow caught Leonardo leaving. Then brushed the thought away as silly. If he'd caught Leonardo here, there'd been a fight for sure.

"Karai," he started, but grimaced and placed a hand on his shoulder. Karai noticed the blood seeping through his uniform and froze.

"Father, you're hurt."

He nodded but raised a hand to calm her. "The whore, Lena, stabbed me before my ninja dispatched her."

Karai's face paled. She sat in a chair opposite from him. "Should I call someone?"

Saki shook his head. "Dr. Tsuneo will be arriving soon. Karai, in light of all that has happened, I think it would be wise for you to go . . . underground for a while before resuming your duties in the clan."

Karai stared at him. She folded one hand over the other. "I no longer wish to be part of the Foot," the words flowed from her mouth automatically and calmly without any forethought. But still, she knew what she wanted and there was no point in dragging it out.

Saki levelled a look at her. To her surprise, he lowered his gaze. "I see," was all he said. After a tense moment he said, "You have been traumatized, daughter. I understand you would need time . . . to recoup. That is what I am granting you. I have a secure location for you already arranged. In Japan."

Karai shook her head. "No. You do not hear me. I want out. For good."

He stared at her coldly.

"Father, I will not command the Foot any longer. If you force me, the section you assign me will be a failure."

He sat still, thinking over what she'd revealed. He'd thought she may be shaken by the events of the past day, but he never thought he'd find her in the arms of the freak again. He knew she harbored unnatural feelings for the animal but had hoped two years spent away from him had cleansed her spirit of his filth. How wrong he was.

He thought there was a chance that Leonardo may agree to his terms. Slim, but worth the chance. If Leonardo harbored strong feelings for Karai, and from the footage of his performance at coming to her aid, Saki was sure he did. There was the possibility when faced with the option of losing her that he'd gain a skillful and unique ninja to use as he wished; along with a devoted bodyguard for his daughter.

The freak had saved his daughter from being dishonored and butchered at the hand of savages. It was only just that he give the creature a chance. But Karai was throwing an unexpected hitch into the situation. She was effectively telling him she would actively sabotage his precious clan should he force her to resume control. So even if Leonardo agreed to his terms and joined the Foot, would Karai still want to leave?

He considered her carefully and still was not sure. She was playing a dangerous game with him.

"The Foot Clan is your destiny. It is my legacy to you."

"Find someone else."

He did not meet her eyes, but stared across the room. "It is your inheritance."

A disturbing thought began to take root. Karai would continue to pursue this mutant, even if her life were in jeopardy. Even if the freak refused her, based on the agreement made between him and the creature and tried to avoid her, Saki understood that she would seek him out, put her life in danger, and ruin the Foot Clan in the process. Ruin everything he'd built for her. Throw it all away for what she believed to be love. He knew his stubborn, willful daughter too well.

"I respectfully refuse, father."

He sighed with aggravation. "Karai, do not wear on my patience."

"I know you have elite that are devoted and dedicated to you," she pleaded, "they would serve you better than I ever could."

"Karai, you are my blood."

His eyes met hers and he saw in them the steely determination and stubborn, willful spirit of the woman who was her mother. Karai was exactly her mother's daughter. The woman he'd loved dearly and lost too suddenly. The woman who had brought happiness and light into his bleak world. Karai would force his hand if he allowed it. She would not give up this obsession even if it cost her, her life.

"I will give you time," he said slowly.

He could be cruel, even evil at times. But he was her still her father, and though she wished for his demise at points in her life, she loved him. In moments like this, when his kindness erupted out of the blue and left her speechless, she wasn't sure if she'd ever come to understand the complex and contradictory man that her father was.

Dumbstruck, Karai could only stare at him as he went on.

"As much time as you require. Should it be a year or ten . . . or more." Their eyes met. Her mouth hung open in shock. "But you must fulfill your duty to me as my daughter, one day. Understood?"

"Y-Yes, Father. One day."

* * *

Leonardo was a shadow on the wall, watching with wary stillness as he saw Karai reach over and place her hand tenderly on her father's. He couldn't hear what was being said, but felt certain she was not in any danger. They seemed to be having a heart-to-heart conversation, the thought of which made him dizzy with the surreal nature of it.

With a leaden, confused heart, he climbed up to the roof. For a moment, he crouched there, unsure of what to do, what to think.

The Shredder was Karai's father. He would always be her father. There was nothing he could do to change that.

His only love had come from his only hate. His chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe. He braced his head against the heels of his hands, took in a deep breath; forced it into his lungs. Then another and another until it wasn't so hard to do.

When he raised his head, the fact remained unflinching and terrible.

The morning sunlight was growing stronger on his back and shoulders. The cement beneath his toes was cool and moist with dew. The night was over. His one, last night of freedom. He had to go home now. To face his own father. To tell him that he would obey as he'd always done. He'd not forsake his family over the desires of his own foolish heart. No matter what it would cost him.

He was being forced to choose between his life and his duty. What the Shredder had offered him only reaffirmed that he'd made the correct decision. He would be serving his father honorably while keeping Karai safe in the only way he could.

He stood up.

Now it was time to face his responsibilities and grow up.

He wiped a tear from one cheek; surprised because he never felt it fall. His throat tightened. He never got the chance to tell her he was saying goodbye. And now he never would. For that he was filled with regret. Everything else he would cherish until the day he died.

He blew out a breath and ran over the expanse of the roof, leaped to the next and headed home. His thoughts a jumbled mess; his heart a thundering beat matched only by the sound of his feet pounding against the cement. Without feeling them, more tears slid free only to be stolen away by the wind.


	20. Keeping Promises

_"This is what we are made for: promises, pledges, and sworn oaths of obedience."_  –Lauren Oliver,  _Requiem_

 _"Promises were like laws; smart men knew when to break both."_ – C.J. Hill, _Slayers_

* * *

 

Michelangelo gave Splinter a soft smile as he finished wrapping the fresh bandage around his head. Splinter sat on the edge of his son's cot; a small metal table held the discarded, bloodied bandages along with some pain killers, a glass of water and antiseptic wipes. Splinter's hand rested a moment against his son's warm cheek. He felt Michelangelo lean into his palm a little. He'd been running a slight fever and though it was low grade, it had him worried.

"I feel fine. In fact, I'm getting better," Mikey said with a poor attempt at sounding chipper; quoting from Monty Python, as Splinter removed his hand and sighed. He smoothed the edge of the blanket covering his son's chest. "Besides the teeny-tiny headache, I'm fine," he amended as he took the two pills from his father and the glass of water.

He gulped down the meds with a large swallow. He leaned his pounding head back down on the pillow doing his best to not show how much pain he was actually in.

Michelangelo frowned as his good eye roved over his father's expression. Apparently his act was not convincing. He saw the worry in the half-hidden lines beneath the thinning fur, the deep purple circles beneath the red-rim of his father's eyes. Things had been strained the last few days and Michelangelo hated the tension and stress that had filled the lair.

Seeing Leonardo lose control and attack Donnie on the roof was disturbing and upsetting enough. But then Donnie had lost his mind with Casey and nearly beat the guy to death in front of all of them. Then he thought for sure that Leo and Splinter were going to get into another huge fight over Karai. He'd felt helpless and scared as the two people he loved so much stared each other down before they raced off to rescue the ladies.

It was like everyone was going nuts around him. He just wanted things to be like they used to be. When it was simple. When it was easy. This turmoil was too much for him. And he knew the strain on his father's relationship with Leo was taking a major toll on his father. Not to mention what it must be doing to his big brother.

He never saw Splinter look this bad before. Not since Leo first revealed his feelings for Karai two years ago at least. He thought that his father was going to die of a heart attack back then. But these days, Splinter just seemed sickly. Weak. And Leo had finally started to act a little more like how he used to be. But now everything was turned upside down again.

He sighed heavily and listened to the gentle, shallow breathing of his father. Their eyes met and Michelangelo saw the heaviness written in them.

He just wanted Splinter to be happy and not so worried. He wanted Splinter to ease off his brother and give him a break. He'd always been so hard on Leonardo, always expected him to act older than he was; to be the most responsible one while he and his brothers goofed off and got away with it most of the time. And he'd done a great job being their leader all these years. Mikey had no complaints.

Leo was a hard-ass but always fair. He was Mr. Fairness, in fact. And while it was true that he thought Leo getting involved with Karai at first was a big mistake, he finally understood that Leo couldn't help or stop his feelings and Karai apparently felt something for his brother. She told Donnie she  _loved_  him. He marveled at the thought for a moment.

Memories of that strange summer vacation up at April's farmhouse drifted into his mind. He remembered Miranda and how good it had felt for a while having someone not be afraid of him. Being interested in him despite what he was. It was like a  _miracle_. And though he knew the women at Casey's party were being paid for being there, and didn't care one bit about him, who he was or what he was, even  _that_  night felt better than anything he'd  _ever_  felt before.

He could only imagine what Leo was going through, being like that with someone who actually cared about him. It must be wonderful. A dream come true.

He dropped his gaze as his head felt dizzy from sitting up so long. Splinter's whiskers twitched as if he were picking up on Michelangelo's discomfort and frustration. Master Splinter raised his hand and pressed the back of it against his forehead. He frowned and removed it.

Things didn't have to be this way, Mikey thought. It didn't have to be so messed up. If only Splinter could see that everything could work out. Instead of being so stubborn. God, why couldn't Splinter just let Leo be happy? They weren't little kids anymore. They were growing up and everything and everyone was falling further apart the harder his father tried to force them and everything together.

Wasn't there a way for Leo to still be their big brother and have a life for himself? If there wasn't what did that mean for the rest of them?

Splinter shifted in his seat. Michelangelo reached out and laid his hand on top of his father's. His hand felt thin and bony beneath Mikey's firm palm. It shocked him how fragile his father's hand felt.

"Really, I'm  _fine_ ," he insisted.

Splinter blinked sadly at him. He grimaced; closing his eyes tightly. Then to his surprise, Splinter moved with shaking hands and re-opened the bottle of pills and poured two into his palm then quickly downed them.

"A-Are you okay?" Mikey asked; coming to sit up again; ignoring the wave of dizziness that hit him.

Splinter nodded and pressed one hand into his chest. Mikey laid back but his frown deepened.

"I have been feeling unwell myself for a time, my son. But do not worry," he added at his son's instant look of fear. "I am sure it is a passing ailment. Nothing more."

"Well, I bet all the stress isn't helping you much."

Splinter shook his head.

"It wasn't Leo's fault," he blurted. "About the gun, I mean. He was really stressed going up there. I mean, he was pretty upset in the truck." Something told him to shut up. That he was somehow making things worse for his brother. Splinter's face darkened a bit. "B-But we all were! Donnie was worried about April and Leo . . . well you heard what Casey said!" He paused, struggling, head pounding.

"Don't be mad at Leo, father," he finished feebly.

Splinter's expression softened. "I am not angry with your brother. There is no anger in my decision."

"What do you mean?" he asked. As if on cue, they heard the sound of the entrance to the lair as it opened and Master Splinter stood up. He moved to the table at the far wall and picked up a folder. He turned back to Michelangelo.

"Are you well enough to come into the living room, my son?"

Mikey nodded and Splinter helped him up. Together they entered the main living area of their home just as Leonardo strode inside. If anyone noticed his lack of clothing, no one said anything. Splinter eased Michelangelo onto the couch. Leonardo came to stand next to him. He crouched down.

"Hey, how are you feeling? Can I get you anything?"

Michelangelo gave him a weak smile. His eye sparkled in mischief, "I could use some ice cream. Cookie-dough and chocolate chip. And some new comics. And a new video game while you're asking. There's a new rpg game that I've been dying to try!"

Leonardo chuckled softly, "I'll get right on it." He squeezed his brother's shoulder and stood up.

His face became serious as he turned his attention to Master Splinter. His whiskers twitched with his nose. A slight frown creased Splinter's forehead.

Leonardo fought the urge to drop his eyes in shame. He knew that the scent of Karai was all over him and that his father's sensitive nose was surely picking it up. He hadn't exactly had a chance to freshen up before he raced home. He kept his gaze level as a shadow passed through his father's amber eyes.

A surge of defiance rose up within Leonardo. He would not be ashamed. Karai loved him. He loved her. It was the last time they'd ever be together. He would treasure his time spent in her arms. He would not feel a shred of guilt for that. Never for that. Never again.

Saying nothing, he indicated for Leonardo to follow him with one hand. Leonardo noticed the folder in his father's other hand but said nothing. A mix of curiosity and a whisper of dread stirred within his mind.

Quietly, Leonardo turned and followed his father to the center of the lair where he knelt. Raphael emerged from the dojo wiping his hands on a small white towel. He paused for a moment then threw it over one shoulder and moved to sit on the arm of the couch where Michelangelo had one arm draped over the back, watching Leo and Splinter with quiet anxiety. Donatello came out from his lab, being pulled by April by one hand. He was saying something in protest, a pair of needle-nose pliers in his other hand, but when his eyes landed on his brother and father, his mouth snapped shut and he hurried forward. He and April stood awkwardly to one side of Splinter.

"My son," Splinter started as he folded his hands in front of his body, over the edge of the folder, standing in front of a kneeling Leonardo. "I trust you have used the hours of the night wisely. To think on what I asked of you. What you were to meditate on." He paused with a significant look down at his son and still Leonardo did not break his steady gaze. Splinter cleared his throat. "Do you wish to say something to your family?"

Only then did Leonardo slowly blink. He lowered his head then raised it with his chin slightly jutted forward with pride. The room was completely silent. No one moved. No one breathed. The world came to a halt as Leonardo opened his mouth to speak.

"Yes. I pledge to you, father; to my brothers; my dedication . . . my  _life_ ," his throat caught a little but he pressed on without further breaks, "All the days of my life will be given to keeping our clan secure and together for as long as I am capable. I will not fail you in this duty. It is my honor to serve as head of our clan."

He bowed his head then and Splinter moved forward. He placed a claw on Leonardo's shoulder.

His voice thick, he said, "I am proud of you, my son. The choice you made is one of purity and honor. However, in light of recent events . . ." He paused as he slowly looked from Leonardo to each of his children, then back to the son kneeling in front of him. "Events that have shown your judgment unfortunately to still be compromised . . . I must ask of you one last test of your dedication and devotion to this position I offer to you. If you are truly to replace me when I am gone, there is one last challenge I place before you. To prove that you are as committed as you promise. Will you accept this task? Can you rise to your full potential . . . for your brothers . . . for me, my son?"

Though presented as a choice, Leonardo knew there was none before him. He was trapped. His father was dying and his family needed someone to take his place. There was no turning back. He'd made his decision to give up his personal life; give up the woman who was most precious to him; the woman who brought color into his world of gray; and dedicate himself fully to keeping his family safe and unified. It was a duty placed on his shoulders before he ever knew what it really meant. It was a destiny branded onto his soul by birth order. A fate he never chose, but it was his burden to shoulder nonetheless.

He accepted this with a numbness inside that felt like something dying within him. It went without a sound, without a whimper; it slid slowly from him as he nodded his assent.

Splinter smiled, nodded; his amber eyes gleamed with pride and relief. He handed Leonardo the folder. Baffled, Leonardo opened it and scanned the contents with an ever deepening frown. He looked up then back again at the papers in his hands.

The passport, the false documentation . . . the plane ticket to Central America.

"I…I don't . . ."

"You are to go to Central America. Alone. There in the purity of the cleansing rain forests, you will center your spirit and train in solitude. For one year. Then you will return to us and take up your position as formal leader of this family."

The blood was rushing through his ears so the sounds of his brother's gasps and shouted protests seemed to come from far away. Numbly he felt himself tip to one side; soft, feminine hands grasped at his left shoulder and steadied him.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind where he had no control, he cried out for Karai. Wished those hands holding him upright belonged to her. For a terrible, frightening moment of weakness and complete insanity, he thought of the Shredder's offer, considered it in the darkness of this moment before sanity regained control and forced the cowardly consideration away.

He blinked furiously at his suddenly blurred vision, trying to clear it. But his heart was beating too loud, his chest was caving in on him. When his vision cleared, he saw the floor; the contents of the folders spilled in a fan before him; his hands bracing himself up, when did he pitch forward?

April's voice was murmuring in his ear something about going on the plane with him. As his nurse or teacher or something, he didn't know. But the sound of her voice was like a steady stream of reality; it was something he mentally latched onto as spots swirled at the edges of his vision.

He took a breath. Blew it out in a shaky gust. Shame burned his face at his realization of his reaction. He brought himself back upright, blinking, and swallowing at the solid lump in the center of his throat that wouldn't budge.

"I accept," he heard someone saying in a low hoarse voice, repeating desperately, "I accept. I accept."

He realized with a start it was his own voice he was hearing. His mind caught up to his body.

He reached down and with trembling hands gathered the paperwork back into the opening of the folder. He sat back on his heels. Splinter stood before him, gazing softly at him and the expression of pride Leonardo saw there made his stomach turn for the first time in his life. But he pushed away the thought and allowed his eyes to move across the room to his family.

The stunned and flustered faces of his brothers turned to him. Raphael was pink-cheeked with suppressed fury. His green eyes held an intensity that flared and flashed. The towel from his shoulder lay on the floor between his feet where he'd thrown it. He turned away in a huff, a string of curses barely concealed beneath his growling breath, and slammed his bedroom door.

Donatello stood gripping the needle-nose pliers in two hands, knuckles light green; his eyes looked flat, his jaw clenched and unclenched. He continued to glance between Splinter and Leonardo.

"Leo, you don't-"

"I accept," he said softly, directed it at Donatello.

His brother looked as though he swallowed something bitter. He turned his face to Splinter and opened his mouth as April jumped up. She planted her hands on his chest and moved to turn him away. Donatello knocked her arms away. April staggered to one side. She moved to hold one arm and he shrugged it off roughly, coldly.

"Donnie!" she gasped.

He shook his head violently. He pointed a shaking finger in Leonardo's direction. "He may accept this but I  _don't_! This is madness!" he shouted at Splinter who slowly raised his eyes to his intelligent son. "Sending him away?! For a year? Master Splinter, you can't be serious! What will this  _prove_?"

Splinter merely looked at him and said calmly, "Try to understand, Donatello. In solitude your brother will come to appreciate the family he has. While away from all distractions . . . of the city, the  _humans_ , he will train and focus his spirit. When he returns he will be a better leader for all of you."

April moved to coax him away, murmuring softly to Donatello, but again he shrugged away from her touch.

"Get off me!" he snapped at her.

Shocking her with his outburst of anger, she stepped back and gave him some breathing room. She'd never seen this side of Donatello. Never saw him so angry. Didn't realize he had it in him, honestly. April couldn't help but be amazed and more than a little impressed at how he stood up to the intimidating figure of their father.

"Then why not send him up to April's farmhouse? Why send him so  _far_?" Donatello pushed.

Splinter only shook his head, he waved one hand dismissively at Donatello and he bristled at the perceived insult. Splinter moved slowly around Leonardo and sat next to Michelangelo on the couch. One hand clutched at his chest.

Donatello followed with April close behind him.

Leonardo climbed to his feet. He was silent as Donatello and his father argued more. Taking it all in, listening, hoping that maybe Donatello could convince his father of some other course of action, when he knew there'd be no way for him to do so.

Despite what Splinter was saying, he knew exactly what this was. It was his punishment. A punishment for allowing himself to be distracted with the prospect of happiness outside of his clan. In loving a woman that was part of the enemy force dedicated to killing them, he had betrayed his father, his family in the worst way possible.

In a small way, he felt he did somehow deserve this. But still, he hoped his father might reconsider.

"Why, Master Splinter?" Mikey asked him in a soft voice, breaking into the rising voice of his older brother. His pounding head spun with this terrible revelation. "He said he'd be committed to us. Why isn't that enough?"

"My sons. Leonardo. You will see in time. The strength that he will develop once this challenge is complete. He will come to understand his family, himself better than he ever dreamed."

"Please don't send him away," Mikey pleaded and Splinter closed his eyes, blocking out the earnest sadness he saw in his youngest pleading blue eye. When Splinter shut his eyes, Michelangelo dropped his head into his hands and sighed heavily, fighting back the threatening tears.

"This doesn't make any sense at all. He can train anywhere . . .  _anywhere_!" Donatello shouted, shaking where he stood. He trained his furious gaze to his brother. "You don't have to do this, Leo. Say no. Just tell him you  _refuse_."

Leonardo stared at the folder in his hands. He pressed his mouth into a thin line. He gave his word. He would live up to it.

"Enough."

Everyone looked at Leonardo then. His tone was firm and commanding. The voice he used on their training runs and during battles. The voice that his brothers obeyed and followed without question, trusting their safety with him without a doubt and wholeheartedly.

"Do not argue with Sensei any longer. It is disrespectful. I said I accept, and I do. I will become what you need me to, Master. Then, I will return in one year."

Donatello, shaking with fury, spun and marched past Leonardo. As he did, he bumped slightly into April. He shot her a look and spat, "You knew. You knew about this . . . ridiculous  _task_." The last word held so much venom in it April recoiled from him.

In the back of his mind, he knew he was the last person that should be upset for someone with holding a painful secret. But he couldn't help but feel betrayed and hurt.  _She should have told me. She should have confided in me._  He shook his head and stomped into his lab where he slammed the door. The sound of the lock snapping in place was a like a mechanical condemnation.

At a loss, April turned to Leonardo. She pressed her mouth together and offered a soft smile to him. She held out her hand and took the folder. Then she took one of his hands in hers and led him towards his room where his disguise had been laid out and his bag for the trip had already been packed for him.

"I'll help you get ready, Leo."

Shakily, he nodded to her, "Thank you."

* * *

He was dressed as an old man. A paper mask over his face, a lightweight hoodie covering his head. He sat in the wheel chair as April helped her "patient" into his seat at the back of the plane. She sat next to him and glanced out the small oval window.

He was traveling under the guise of a wealthy but very sickly passenger, heading to Costa Rica for treatment at a secluded medical facility. April was to accompany him on the flight then immediately return. In one year's time, he was to meet her at the designated location to fly back to New York with her once again as his personal care-taker.

His sweating hands gripped the arm rests as the plane rolled and bounced as it readied for take-off along the run-way. His knuckles lightened with the force of his grip. April glanced sideways at him again, worried and helpless.

He'd said his stunted and formal goodbyes to his brothers and headed to the surface with April leading the way to her van shortly after Splinter revealed the task and Leonardo agreed. Everyone seemed to be in shock as they left; saying not much more than their goodbyes to their oldest brother. When Leonardo gave Donatello leadership over the family, she saw his shocked expression as he looked up at Leonardo, but he only nodded curtly, accepting his temporary promotion, accepting the burden without protest in light of what his brother was sacrificing. Donatello never even looked at her.

She regretted not telling him, but a promise was a promise. Splinter asked for her word and she gave it.

The trip up to the air-port was made in silence. The waiting for boarding the same. She tried to engage Leo in mindless conversation, hoping to distract him but aside from a few nods and soft noises, Leonardo remained silent and tense. Leonardo kept his wide eyes trained out the window, watching the planes come in from beneath his hood without a word.

April felt a pang of sympathy for her friend. She wished she could help him relax. She knew he was terrified. But the stoic young man would not admit it out loud, not even hint at it. His eyes were closed as if he were peacefully sleeping, but his shoulders were hunched giving away how nervous he actually was. She placed her hand on top of his just as the plane lurched forward with take-off. She felt him shaking beneath his clothes and her heart melted as she remembered his brothers teasing him and telling her of Leonardo's deep-seated fear of heights when he was a child.

The plane leveled out and April whispered, "You okay?"

Blinking his eyes open, he nodded rapidly. His pupils were black pinpoints in barely suppressed panic in his wide glassy eyes. Then the plane dipped and Leonardo jumped. He gripped the arm rests tightly and April saw the beads of sweat slipping down the side of his face, soaking into the paper mask covering the bottom half of his face.

She looked down to see his chest heaving rapidly with his shallow frantic breaths. She rubbed the top of his hand. Trembling violently, he turned over his hand and clutched hers tightly. It was the only outward admission he gave of the terror he was experiencing. She held on to him, cradling his clammy hand between two of hers.

"Everything is okay, Leo. This is normal. Try to relax, okay. Breathe slowly. It's going to be okay."

After a few minutes of steady flying she felt him gain control and calm himself. His breathing slowed and his shoulders slowly slumped down. The shaking subsided. He cracked his eyes open and looked at her without moving his head.

"Thank you . . . for everything."

She nodded, feeling miserable for him.

"April, you said to me," his eyes moved to the back of the seat in front of him, "you told me that you thought of . . . of Karai," he closed his eyes as he spoke her name aloud, "as your friend."

April nodded enthusiastically, "That's right, Leo. I do."

"Do . . . Do you think you could tell her, for me . . . tell her . . ." he struggled and April waited, giving him time before pressing him for more. He turned his face to her. His eyes were stormy with emotions raging behind them.

"Tell her I love her. That I didn't want to leave her. Tell her I wanted . . . just . . . It couldn't  _work_ ," he paused and she saw his eyes scrunch closed in pain, he shook his head. "No, forget that . . . just tell her that I love . . . loved her. Just tell her that, okay?"

April fought the tears, nodding. "Sure, Leo. Okay. I promise. As soon as I get back."

He shook his head. "No. Give it some time. So I can disappear. A few weeks at least. I . . . I don't want her coming after me," he said adamantly. He paused and his eyes bounced between hers. His voice was low and serious now, "April. She cannot come looking for me under any circumstance. Do not tell her where I've gone."

April nodded, feeling like this was unfair. The world was too cruel. Because she knew that as soon as she told Karai, Karai would want to know exactly where he went. And April had planned on telling her everything. But now what could she do?

"Promise me, April. She cannot come looking for me. Promise."

"I p-promise," she said miserably knowing there was no way she could keep this one.

* * *

_Six weeks later_

Karai watched the people moving on the sidewalk, through the large glass window of the café, one cheek propped up by the heel of her hand. Motion in front of her brought her attention to the seat in front of her in the booth. April sat as she greeted her.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," Karai replied.

She looked at the red-headed woman across from her as she shifted and got comfortable. Disturbing memories swarmed into her mind. She gripped the edge of the paper napkin in front of her and tore tiny rips all along the surface, counting in her mind until the images faded back a little. She knew that seeing this woman might do this. It might be upsetting and bring up memories she was trying her best to ignore or eradicate from her mind. But it had been so long since she heard from or seen Leonardo, and this woman was close with the turtles, she was her only link.

"You look well," Karai choked out, then cleared her throat as a waitress approached.

April looked up and ordered a coffee. Karai ordered the same along with a pastry for the both of them.

"My treat," Karai said and felt nothing but awkward.

"Thanks."

Karai dipped her head, looked out the window, feeling April's eyes studying her.

"How are you doing, Karai?"

"I'm fine," she replied immediately in a clipped tone. Her eyes flashed defiantly at April who only stared at her with a soft expression, then lowered her gaze to her napkin. She set it down and patted it with one hand. "Actually, not so good. It's been kinda rough," she said with a breathy laugh, running her fingertips through her hair, pushing one side behind her ear. "But it's under control."

"Yeah, I'm sure. But that was pretty scary, what we went through . . . back there."

Karai only huffed through her nose and nodded. Then, "Nothing we couldn't handle."

It was April's turn to give a breathy chuckle. "You know, I . . . I wanted to thank you for helping me back there."

Karai shook her head but April went on.

"No, you didn't have to. I mean, you were in enough trouble as it was without sticking your neck out for me. You tried to be a comfort to me, as well. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there to help calm me down."

Karai blinked at the burning feeling in her eyes. This was a little too girlie for her tastes and she started to feel awkward and uncomfortable. Through her life she'd never had anything close to a friend and she had no idea what to say or do at this point. Just as she started to lean back and pull away from the table, April reached over and placed her hand on top of hers.

Karai froze, she stared at it in shock. She raised her eyes to April's smiling face.

"I'm glad you weren't hurt."

A half-smile played across her lips. "Yeah, me too."

April released her hand as both women chuckled as the waitress brought their coffee and pastries. The women spent the next two hours talking about their respective childhoods and general talk of nothing of importance. April saw Karai glance at the clock on the wall opposite them. They fell into a slightly awkward silence.

"I . . . I'll be right back," Karai blurted suddenly and rose from her seat.

April watched her hurry to the ladies room and sat back. She had a moment of fear, thinking that Karai would reappear in the café with a horde of Foot soldiers ready to attack her and question her about the location of the turtles. She brushed the thought away as Karai reemerged a few minutes later, looking a little pale, but without an entourage of killer ninjas in her wake. During their entire, lengthy, conversation, the guys never even came up.

"You okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Not feeling great." She rubbed the top of her thighs. "I should get going."

"Oh. Okay. You know, Karai, I was hoping to talk to you about something. Something personal." April saw the girl stiffen. "But, but we don't have to do this today. If you're unwell."

"N-No, it's fine. But if it's personal can we do it," she glanced around, "somewhere else, my place, maybe?"

April smiled. "Sure."

* * *

April sat in the comfortable sofa that lined one wall of Karai's spacious living room. The décor was simple and tasteful, mostly Asian influenced pieces, like vases and small paintings. There were two larger ones hung above the dark couch where April sat, depicting twisting branches of cherry trees and cranes flying through a pastel sky. The images held a quiet quality with a soft subtle beauty that surprised April to think Karai admired such peaceful views. It spoke of a hidden side to the bold, defiant woman that April had no idea existed. But nothing was more unsettling and surreal than the few framed pictures of a younger Karai standing next to her father and mother.

Karai entered the room with a plate of small cookies and shrugged as she sat. "I know we just ate, but um, trying to be a proper hostess."

April smiled.

"So, you said you wanted to . . . ask me something personal?"

April wasn't sure how to begin so she just jumped right in. "I know you and Leonardo had a pretty serious relationship going on."

Karai sat frozen in place, only blinking once to give away that the woman in front of April was alive and breathing.

"I . . ." April sighed. "I'm seeing one of his brothers. Donatello."

Karai's eye brows shot up but she said nothing. April rubbed the palms of her hands together and dropped her head.

"I've had feelings for him for a long time and well, things have moved on to more serious . . . levels. Only, I've had some trouble . . . getting around the fact that we're so different, uh, physically."

Karai slowly sat back in her chair. She frowned softly and gave her a nod to go on.

"I don't have a problem with it," she said quickly, then, "well, I did at first. It was the only thing keeping me from really exploring my growing feelings for him. I . . . I was sort of caught up in what people might think of us," she paused for a breath, "being together. Then, well, I thought I was ready, I really did, but a few weeks ago . . ."

"You had sex with him," Karai offered bluntly. April cringed but nodded. "Let me guess, you had sex with him and it freaked you out."

"Yes,  _exactly_! I  _knew_  you'd understand! So, how long did it take you to get used to Leo's . . . body?"

Karai squinted her eyes and scowled. "I didn't need time to get used to his body. I mean, yeah, before we were doing stuff together, I thought he was really weird in a cool sort of way, but I was never, what? Grossed out by him." She shrugged as if were the simplest thing in the world. "I love his body. Sure, it's very different from human guys, in some ways . . ."

It was April's turn to flop back into her seat. "Oh, so, even after, you…you and he, you never . . ."

Karai shook her head. "I don't know," she paused as she considered what to say next, "The fact that he's so different was what attracted me to him in the first place, I think. Before I got to know who he was." Her voice grew soft as her eyes turned inward, "But yeah, he's different. The feel of him," Karai glanced down at her fingertips then, and April knew she was remembering the unique feel of his skin, his shell; knew she was missing him.

"But I don't give a shit what people think. To hell with them," she said with her eyes flashing. "That's your big problem, April. You're too worried about these imaginary people in your head. They're getting in the way of what you want."

"Uh, no, I don't really care…"

"You say that, but why are you here then?" Karai sat up. "You say you have feelings for Donatello? You love him, right?"

April nodded, listening intently as Karai became more animated. "I do, Karai. It's crazy but, I do."

"No, it's not crazy." She shook her head. "But what do I know? I shouldn't be the one judging what's crazy and what isn't," she said with a sigh. "I didn't exactly have a normal childhood." At April's resigned look she gave the situation a little more thought. She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, then asked, "Have you given yourself a chance to really see him?"

April stared blankly at her, holding her breath.

"I mean,  _really_  see him. To stop and just . . . explore his amazing body. I don't mean just the muscles and stuff. But," she struggled for words for a moment. Then she leveled a look at April, "Trust me, if you really love him, you can get past your empty fear. Just give yourself a chance to explore him. You fell for that amazing person inside, now you just have to appreciate how wonderful he is on the outside, too."

April nodded and she began to understand better how Karai saw Leonardo. It helped her see Donatello differently as well. He  _was_  amazing. Both on the inside and out. And when she really thought about it without worrying about what people would think of her feelings, she  _was_  drawn to him.

Karai was right. She wanted Donatello, not just because he was brilliant and courageous, but because he was someone so completely special. There was no one else like him in all the world. And April was lucky to have him. She just needed some time to explore him. Something she took for granted and something she set her mind to doing as soon as she could.

"I mean, isn't it just incredible that they're here with us? And more than that . . . they . . .  _h-he_  . . . oh god," her throat caught and her eyes shone. She dropped her head into her hand. Then her face shot up. "I miss him, April. I miss him  _so_  much. Why hasn't he contacted me? Do you know?"

"Karai, he gave me a message for you. I wanted to tell you right away but he . . . he was very firm that I waited. I think he was worried about your safety."

Karai scooted to the edge of her seat. Her eyes were round but her eyebrows dropped into a frown.

"He wanted me to tell you that he loves . . . loved you."

She processed that for a moment. She blinked. "He  _loved_  me?" Her face darkened as she stood up. "Wait a minute. Where is he? He isn't in New York, is he?"

April shook her head. Karai crossed the room and grabbed April by the sides of her arms and made her stand up.

"If you know where he is you better tell me," she warned in a low voice.

Though she knew Karai could kick her ass all over this apartment if she wanted to, something told her that she wouldn't. April clenched her jaw stubbornly. Karai narrowed her eyes.

"I would tell you if I could. But I promised him I wouldn't. He told me under no circumstance were you to follow him."

Karai released April's arms. Karai started to pace back and forth in front of April. "I knew it. That morning. I knew something wasn't right. My father must have threatened him . . ."

"Your father? The Shredder had Leo?" April was thoroughly confused. "Wait, when did this happen?"

"No, he must have threatened me," she said quietly, staring at the opposite wall as it dawned on her. One hand clutched at the base of her throat, the other went to her middle. Slowly she moved both hands to her stomach. Her face shot to April. "You  _have_  to tell me where I can find him. Please, April. A-As my friend. You  _have_  to tell me. I need to see him."

April shook her head miserably. "I . . . I promised. He made me promise."

"Okay. Okay." She raised her hands in a placating motion. Her eyes darted around then back to April, "But you're not the only one who knows, right?"

Hesitantly, April replied, "Yeah . . . but, Karai . . ."

"I wouldn't demand this of you if it wasn't really. Important. That I see him. If you're really my friend, you'll do this for me."

Karai turned a look so filled with desperation and pleading that April felt her hand go to her pocket; felt her fingers close around the shell cell.

* * *

Donatello grumbled as he finally finished with then hung up on the last customer calling for technical service. He rubbed his temples and reached for the can of super-caffeinated liquid he'd taken to drinking between cups of coffee. Between the constant repairs needed throughout the lair, keeping tabs on Mikey's slow, but consistent recovery and Raph's frequent disappearing acts, and the unexpected demands of this part-time job, Donatello was running on fumes. He was beyond exhausted and stressed. Had been for a while.

On top of it all, he almost never saw April. The most time he spent with her was when he and Raphael helped her move into her new apartment a week ago. He was too exhausted to even give a moment's thought to the fact that she was leaving the lair. It wasn't like they'd seen much of each other in private while she was here, anyway.

Any time he had a moment of peace to spend with her, it seemed that Splinter needed something looked at or new meds for his weakening condition.

Which was another thing that was keeping him up at night. Splinter insisted that it was nothing, but doubt nagged at Donatello. His father seemed deflated and shrunken since Leo's departure on his forced training mission. As if his health took a turn for the worse with forcing Leo to leave. Not that he didn't harbor some feelings of spite towards his Sensei, but just because he was angry with his father, he didn't want to see him feeling ill.

His shell cell buzzed and with a roll of his eyes, he picked it up.

"What now, Raph?" he spat angrily into the speaker. Then took a long draught from the can in his other hand while he leaned his chair back.

"Uh, not Raph."

He sputtered and sat up, wiping the stream of liquid off his throat and chest. "Sorry about that April. Just been getting a lot of emergency calls from Raph lately." Like he needed more pressure. "Uh, what's up?"

"I need you to come over. Now. Can you, Don?"

Something in her tone made him sit up then slowly rise to stand. "Y-Yeah? O…Okay. I'll be there in a few."

He gulped as he stared at the phone in his hand. Was this the killing blow he'd been expecting? Ever since they'd made love together, things had been strained and distant between them. They never brought up the fact that they'd shared that intimate act. April never brought it up and so, he wasn't sure if he should. He wanted to. Desperately wanted to clear the air between them, but he never got the opportunity. Just when he needed time to work it out with April, to understand what was happening between them, the world came to a crashing halt with Splinter's announcement.

Leo being sent away threw their lives into chaos and he never seemed to have to a chance to breathe around April let alone a moment of privacy to talk to her. All his fears and questions had to be swallowed back in the face of more pressing concerns and demands of his new position within his family. It was chaos every single day there was always some new problem to address.

Sometimes he wondered how the hell Leo could have ever dreamed that he could handle being the leader of this family and have a personal life on the side with Karai. Then again, he wasn't Leonardo. Mr. Grace-Under-Pressure.

He wondered not for the first time why the hell Leo ever put him in charge in his absence. Raph would've been a much better pick. He clenched his jaw and shoved down his irritation at his brother's decision as his thoughts went back to April.

In a way, he knew they were doomed from the beginning. He'd always been a fool for her. He'd be a fool until the end, it seemed.

He huffed as he jogged through the sewers, running as fast as he could through the tunnels and not knowing why he was in such a hurry for his love life to come to a crashing to an end. Maybe he just wanted to be put out of his misery.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind this in NOT supposed to follow canon, but is my "take" on the Leo and Karai story and is simply an artistic exploration of what could have taken place should this have happened. My turtles are a blend of all the incarnations as well.
> 
> So, I always had a problem with the '07 movie's Splinter sending Leo off like that. I never got a good enough explanation and I think it bothered me enough to work it into my plot. Hopefully, it wasn't too far fetched and made sense.
> 
> I'm cringing with fear over my reviews! But don't hold back! Let me know! Is that the smell of torches and the sound of an angry crowd gathering outside my door? eep!


	21. Making Amends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, some steam below. Enjoy and Review! XD

_"You have suffered enough and warred with yourself -_

_It's time that you won._

_Take this sinking boat and point it home -_

_We've still got time . . ."_  –  _Falling Slowly_  by Glen Hansard

* * *

 

Donatello crept to the edge of the fire escape and began to climb down to April's apartment.

The sun slowly sunk into the west, hidden beneath a thick layer of dark clouds; creating long purple shadows in between the buildings despite the gray overhead. The sharp December air bit into his bare flesh. It was full of the promise of snow. Christmas was right around the corner now. It would be their first without all of them together. A sharp pain went through his chest.

Christmas without Leo was going to suck.

He knew that he could busy himself in his lab and take on extra hours with his job, not that that would actually help anyone get through the family-orientated holiday except for maybe him. But Raph . . . he was not handling this well at all. At first he thought his brother was angry with him for being put in charge. Don waited for the confrontation about it, but it never came. It was more like Raph was angry that Leo had actually gone.

Don huffed through his nose, watching the puff of air evaporate in front of his snout. Like Leonardo ever had a real choice in the matter. He deduced that Raph was angry that Leo didn't fight to stay in New York. That somehow, Leo had willingly abandoned them. Raph was busy punishing himself and everyone around him for this perceived abandonment.

He was not looking forward to a Christmas morning spent with a sullen and angry Raphael looming in the corners of the lair.

And Mikey . . . with a heavy sigh, Donatello dropped onto the balcony just outside April's kitchen window. Mikey would not take it well. Don shook his head. Out of all of them, Mikey most looked forward to Christmas every year. He soaked up the charm of the holiday season and seemed to glow for weeks before and after. So far, his little brother hadn't even brought it up.

The most wonderful time of the year was quickly turning into the most dreaded. His breath ghosted out before him and he shivered while waiting for April to answer his tentative tapping at the window.

Before long, her face appeared. For a second, he took in the sight, half-hidden just behind the frost kissed window: her long bangs swept to one side of her face; her uneven freckles standing out, sprinkled across the top of her slightly rounded cheeks; her eyes bright and green, and his breath caught.

His mind flashed the memory of her beneath him; face flush, cheeks pink with a slight sheen of sweat. The indescribable joy he'd felt. The memory was sweet for the momentary, fleeting relief it brought to his stressed-filled over-worked mind and heart.

_Oh, April. I need you now more than ever before._

He clamped his eyes down hard; shoving the image away with a hard shake of his head. He could not shake the dreaded feeling that everything good in his life was about to end. But she had called and he'd come running to find . . . what?

He squared his shoulders; readying to take the blow with as much courage and grace as he could. The window creaked as she lifted it open and stepped back so he could come inside. He only hesitated a moment before climbing in to face his fate.

He hooked one leg over then the other and as he turned and straightened up, a hand shot out and slapped him across the face. He fell back, a hand went to his stinging cheek.

"Karai! What the  _hell_!" April shouted.

"You deserved that."

Donatello's face snapped to the woman standing to his left who hit him.

Karai scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. 

 _So, April didn't hit him? Thank goodness._ But wait. _Karai!?_  

What the hell was she doing in April's apartment? Immediately, Donatello jumped up and fell into a fighting stance. His sharp gaze moved quickly throughout April's kitchen looking for hidden attackers.

"Relax," Karai said. "It's only me."

His gaze shot from April to Karai back to April. "Wh-What is she doing here, April? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Karai rolled her eyes and reached out to poke Donatello in his shoulder. "I told you, relax." But then her eyes went wide and she clamped her hand over her mouth and raced out from the kitchen. Leaving a stunned April and a completely baffled Donatello standing in the middle of the room.

April reached out to gently caress the cheek that Karai had hit, but Donatello lurched away from her. With a stormy glance he marched around her towards her living room. He cast a quick glance down the hallway where Karai had slammed the bathroom door.

April, feeling a bit hurt, but trying to understand that Donnie had been surprised, followed behind him.

Suddenly, Donatello spun on her. "What is this?" he hissed. "April . . . D-Did you  _set me_   _up_?" he asked as his face fell into a deep frown.

"What?! N-No, Don. H-How can you think I'd do something like that?"

He cut her off, "Well, what would you call this? You called me sounding all serious and . . . and I thought you wanted to . . . needed me . . . I ran all the way here only to get jumped."

April rolled her eyes. "Please, Donnie, that wasn't exactly an attack."

Donatello scowled at her. He moved to step around her. His anger was tangible. "You know what? I'm outta here. You seem to have everything under control."

April grabbed his arm and he stopped. He dropped his head, then looked over his shoulder at April.

"April . . . we need to –"

Donatello's words dropped away as Karai emerged from the hallway, looking pale and shaky. Her right hand rested gently on her stomach, the other wiped at her chin.

Donatello took this all in. His mind racing.

"Sorry," she waved one hand in Donatello's direction. "Just got a little too close . . . you smell too much like him." She fanned herself then brought her hands to her hips as she swallowed with her head down; eyes closed.

Donatello and April exchanged glances.

"Okay. I'm good." She breathed then looked up. "Where was I? Oh, yeah. You." She pointed at Donatello. He set his jaw. "Don't give me that look. You deserved that and you know it." Her eyes narrowed. "You're going to tell me exactly where I can find Leonardo. You owe me."

He blinked, taken aback. "I don't  _owe_  you anything. If you remember, Karai, we were hauling my brother's broken and bloody body away from  _your_  father and  _your_  Foot Clan."

"And you know I had nothing to do with that," she snapped.

April pulled on his arm. "Let's sit down and talk this out," she offered reasonably.

Donatello looked at her as though she'd grown another head. "Yeah, I think that'll be a great idea," he chuckled and it was without warmth. "Let's get some tea going and maybe Shredder can bring over some homemade cookies," he said sarcastically. "Then I'll tell him where my brother went and while I'm at it, I'll give him the location of my father so he can torture and kill us all."

"You ass," Karai hissed and came at him.

He dodged back and swung. She blocked and he aimed lower. Karai's eyes widened as both wrists came down to block the blow aimed at her mid-section.

 _"NO!"_ she shrieked.

Shocked at her extreme reaction to a simple strike, Donatello pulled back so fast and hard that he stumbled into April. They tumbled to the floor. Flustered, Donatello looked up. Karai stood over them shaking and panting and holding her stomach protectively.

"I-I mean,  _stop_. I'm her friend," Karai tried to amend, motioning to April with her head.

Donatello didn't take his focused gaze from Karai and the way she stood, still cradling and shielding her stomach, still shaking. His heart began to hammer in his chest as something started to come together. 

 _Preposterous_.

April spoke from next to him, but it seemed as if she were speaking to him from a long distance phone call. "It's true, Don. After everything we've been through together. We . . . We're friends."

"You told her that Leo's gone?" he asked April, numbly, still staring at Karai.

Calmly, April replied, "Yes. Don, she loves him. And Leo . . . he loves her, too. Now, I promised Leo I wouldn't tell her where he'd gone."

Slowly, Donatello pulled his focus from Karai and turned his face to April, sitting on the floor next to him. "If he asked you not to tell her, what makes you think  _I_  would? Besides, there's probably a reason why he didn't want her to know, April," he said the last part as if she were obviously missing a very apparent, simple fact.

Karai crouched in front of him. All traces of anger was gone. Her face was pale and full of pleading. It reminded him too much of that desperate moment in the alley after they rescued Leonardo.

"Donatello,  _please_. He only made April promise not to tell me because he was worried that my . . . the Shredder would hurt me if I went after him. But I need to reach him. It . . . It's very important that I do."

Donatello slowly shook his head.

"I begged you once and you ignored me. Donatello, don't make me beg you again."

She looked firmly into his eyes and slowly, he dropped his gaze down to her hand on her stomach, a flicker of unease swept through him. The idea was ridiculous.  _Impossible. Ludicrous._ And yet, when Leonardo had come back, he did not have his clothing on or the coat that he'd left in. He'd spent the night somewhere.

Now it clicked in Donatello's mind just where his brother spent his last night of freedom. Of course.

But this couldn't be. It wasn't possible. Slowly he raised his eyes back up to hers. He scrutinized her face carefully. It  _couldn't_  be possible. His eyes asked the question that refused to be spoken.

She blinked; pressed her mouth into a thin line.

He willed her to know what his mind screamed at her. Her eye brows came together in a small frown of worry as her eyes darted between his, searching for some sign that he'd give her what she wanted.  _Stubborn girl_ , he thought.

With a resigned sigh, he realized and accepted that he'd have to ask. Somehow, he had to discover if his insane theory could possibly be reality. Throat working, Donatello opened and closed his mouth as the words struggled to come together. "K-Karai, is there something you want to t-tell me?" he asked carefully.

A flash of panic went through her gaze. But it was quickly replaced with a cool hardness. With only a slight tremor in her voice to give her away, she said, "Not to you, no."

His eyes widened.  _"Impossible."_ The whispered word slipped from his mouth, carried on his breath.

Karai's face crushed down into an anguished expression. Her voice broke and she sounded like a frightened, lost teen and not the warrior kunoichi that Donatello knew. "Will you just tell me where the hell he went?"

He sat staring for another couple of seconds before he finally nodded. Karai was right. He owed her this small thing. Owed her and Leonardo for keeping her pledge of love a secret for so long. He could finally make amends to his brother, to the woman who apparently loved him and would risk anything to be with him. His eyes dropped to her stomach. He swallowed dryly. The woman who was . . . dare he even think it?

_Carrying Leonardo's child._

"I . . . can't give you exact coordinates. The tracking device I have on him is limited in scope and range. But," he glanced at April who nodded for him to go on. "I can at least give you a radius to start looking for him in."

Karai's eyes filled up with tears. She threw herself at Donatello and wrapped her arms around his neck.

His hands went up and out to the sides. She pressed her lips to Donatello's cheek and tearfully thanked him between kissing him over and over.

With reddened cheeks, he carefully unwrapped Karai's arms from his neck, shooting a nervous glance over at April's face to gauge her reaction. But April only shook her head and beamed at him; looking proud and relieved. He let out a shaky chuckle. Feeling lightheaded and in a bit of a surreal daze by the roller coaster ride that made up the last few minutes.

* * *

After a very grateful and nearly tearful Karai left, Donatello turned back to April. He rubbed the back of his head. April sat on the couch across from the love-seat from Donatello.

His mind spun. He still couldn't believe what he suspected. No, it just couldn't be. And yet . . . If what had happened between his brother and Karai was true, this changed everything. Absolutely everything. But not necessarily for the better, he realized and his head snapped to April. What would she think of him if she thought he could get her pregnant?

A mutant baby turtle-human hybrid. Would she still want anything to do with him?

"April," he said and his voice cracked. "We need to talk."

"I know," she replied and bit her bottom lip. "But let me . . ." she trailed off as she stood up and moved around where he sat. She stood behind. He turned and April placed her hands on his shoulders, turning him back around. "Sit still, please," she said and started to knead at the knots in his neck and shoulders.

"Uh, alright . . . oh . . . ohhhh," he breathed.

His mouth hung open and his eyes slid shut in pleasure. He didn't even realize how sore he was until she started to press and rub at his rock hard neck; pulled in and held tight from all the stress. Her hands were warm and felt wonderful as they worked out the tightness and balled up muscle mass. Everything he wanted to discuss slid into the background, replaced by this wonderful, loving attention. He didn't want to ruin the moment and give her any reason to stop, so he kept his worries and concerns to himself for now.

Besides, it was completely impossible. It couldn't be true.

She'd never offered to massage him before, though when they were just friends he'd spent many nights rubbing her neck; helping relieve the stress from high school tests and social pressure. He never felt it was one sided at the time. He only relished getting to be so close and getting to touch her. Every chance he got was a gift.

Now, he sat back and simply basked in the feel of her hands and fingers. She moved her hands up the sides of his neck and stroked his jaw, reaching from the front to the back, pulling at his skin; then moved back to rubbing in between his shoulder blades with her thumbs; reaching down beneath his shell. Donatello groaned in pleasure.

She spoke softly, her voice a caressing breath on the back of his neck. He suppressed a shiver. "I know things have been crazy at the lair since Leo had to leave. We haven't had any time alone. Not even when I was living there with you. And you've taken on so much."

Her hands moved back to the tops of his shoulders, still kneading and massaging the tight muscles; feeling them start to soften from her ministrations. He could only nod.

"I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to . . . hang out or really even talk. But I wanted to say that . . . I'm really proud of you," she murmured. He raised an eye brow and shifted.

He felt a rush of gratitude and slight embarrassment. "I-I appreciate that," he said staring forward, and he meant it; more than he could even express to her.

Her fingers slid to the front of his collar bone. She trailed her finger tips along the top edge of his plastron and he shivered.

"Can you feel that?"

 _"Yes,"_  came his soft reply.

"Hm," she said and moved back to his shell.

She ran her fingers along the segmented rim, then folded her fingers underneath the ridge and noticed that on the underside, the shell was not rough but smooth as glass, velvet almost like well-worn leather. She never noticed that before. But how could she? She'd never taken a moment to explore any of them like this before. Not this closely; this intimately. It made sense that the inside wouldn't be rough; hard, yes, but not rough. Where it came into contact with their skin, it was smooth and silky feeling.

Donatello felt her fingers sliding along the inside of his shell.  _What was she . . .?_  He cleared his throat and then involuntarily, he shivered as her fingers brushed the part of him that connected with his spine, lower between his shoulder blades.

She paused.

"Can you feel that?"

He nodded mutely.

She pulled her hand out from the underside of his shell. She tilted her head and brushed her fingers from both hands along the outside of his shell where the lines and ridges supposedly marked off the years he's been alive. Again he shivered. "When I touch your shell? Out here? You can feel that?"

He ducked his head and looked over his shoulder at her, blinking. Feeling a little awkward and shy at her sudden intense interest in his anatomy. Her odd look of concentration and eagerness made him swallow.

"Uh, y-yeah, April," he started in a nervous tone, but slowly his voice rose as it grew in confidence as he moved into an area that he understood.

He explained, "We have nerves that run throughout our carapaces, more concentrated in some places than others. Especially at the join between our backbones and our shell, radiating outwards in a spiral pattern. So, the closer to the center of our carapace the stronger the sensation. The further out the contact is from the center the less so. But it's still something we can sense and feel. Even along the rim of our shells, only there it's more a distant sensation."

"Oh," she said simply, moving her fingers in a spiral pattern along one of his series of ridges, slowly drawing her hands to the center of his shell.

"B-But, Yes. To answer your question. I can tell when you're . . . touching me," he finished quietly.

"So, it hurts when your shells get damaged?"

He shrugged but then nodded, happy to expound since she was suddenly so interested. "Depends. But, not as much as if our skin is cut or a bone is broken, of course. Our plastrons are similar – only much more sensitive. I think that was one of many of the more dramatic changes we underwent when we mutated. It's not as rigid and impenetrable as it is in normal turtles. More like a thick callous for a human. It offers some protection while still maintaining flexibility. Otherwise, there'd be no way for us to practice the twists and bending required to master martial arts."

"Wow. I had no idea." She moved her hands and slid them along the top of his shell. "You are truly amazing," she said quietly, more to herself than to Don.

He shrugged again, humbly, as she moved to the front of him and dropped to her knees. He swallowed as he followed her train of sight. He shifted in his seat, feeling his cheeks warm.

April placed her hands on his kneepads. Donatello blinked and stared at her hands for a moment, feeling very self-conscious and strangely exposed after all this discussion about his anatomy. He decided to fill the awkward silence before it stretched out too long.

"I've wanted to . . . talk. For a while now, actually." He sighed, frustrated with the fact that it had taken this long to be alone with his girlfriend. He blinked at the thought.  _April is my girlfriend._  Boosted by this thought he went boldly on, "About things. About . . . when we were together, the last time. The f-first time, I m-mean. B-But, I just haven't had a minute alone with you."

"You do now," she purred and with that, she pried his knees apart.

"Oh. Uh, huh?" He squirmed as April shifted a little closer and tilted her head. "Oh, uh, y-yes. But I-I do have to get back s-soon. When you called, I sort of took off without letting anyone know . . ."

She nodded without really paying attention and narrowed her eyes as she looked closer between his legs.

"A-April-" he started nervously, wondering what she was looking at so intensely. He jumped and let out a yelp as her hand shot between his thighs and beneath him.

"You have a  _tail_!" April shouted; eyes wide and an astonished smile spread over her face. She grabbed the thick appendage firmly in her fist. "A  _tail_!"

Donatello's chest heaved as he dug his heels into the floor on either side of April; shoulders hunched; pushing his hands into the cushions of the couch as he broke out in a sweat. His eyes snapped closed and his mouth hung open in a silent shout. Cheeks flushed, he gasped and threw his head back as he felt her fingers tighten as she stroked and gently pulled on his tail. His rigid body shuddered violently and he gasped again before he lurched forward and grabbed her by her shoulders.

 _"Please-let-go,"_  he said quickly in a strained voice.

April blinked coyly and a sultry smile came over her face. "Why?" she asked innocently. She stopped moving her hand but held him tight.

Donatello looked at her in disbelief. "I-It's _s-sensitive,"_  he barely choked out.

"How come I've known you guys for years and this is the first time I've seen this?" she asked and as she did she gave him another little squeeze and another pull. His thighs thrummed and trembled on either side of her.

He closed his eyes and snapped them back open. A whimper broke from his throat. "I  _dunno_. Th-They're a p-private part of . . . our bodies and we usually k-keep them tucked against us," he panted out his rapid explanation. " _Please_ , April. I c-can't . . ." he whimpered.

Her face grew serious. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

With jerking motion, he shook his head no. April noticed then how the bottom of his body, just where the inverted 'v' of his plastron sat was now sporting a large bulge. From her experience with him in the barn back at her Aunt's farm, she knew exactly what was hidden just beneath it. April's face slid back into a sultry expression.

"I see," she adjusted herself where she knelt. "So, it doesn't hurt when I do this?" she asked and ran her fingers down the length of his tail, gently but still keeping contact firm.

Donatello slammed into the back of the loveseat. He shuddered violently as his masculinity emerged and made a sound she never heard come from any of them before. A deep rumbling noise rose up from the middle of his chest and poured out from the back of his throat. A mix of a growl and a thundering purr; it was primal and powerful. It stunned and thrilled her.

For a moment she sat shocked, blinking, then quickly recovered herself; only a little surprised to find she was getting very warm.

Donatello peered down at her from beneath heavy-lidded eyes. His irises were molten pools flecked with gold. His mouth hung open a little.

"What are you  _doing to me_?" his voice was deep and husky with desire. A tone and quality she'd never gotten out of him before. Then again, they hadn't had much practice. Something she was determined to rectify.

She felt her cheeks flush. Karai was right. She should have explored him a long time ago.

"Making things right," she purred.

 _"April,"_  he breathed and reached down to gather her into his arms.

April released him and wrapped her arms around his neck as their mouths met and kissed deeply, urgently. She felt the powerful waves of his voracious desire flow over her.

"I love you, Don," she whispered into his mouth as he kissed her again. She felt him shiver and tighten his hold around her.

The warm wetness of his joyful tears melted amongst her own.

* * *

The candles flickered around him as he pressed the pen to paper. Again, he began only to stop, read what he'd written then scowl. With deliberate motion, he crinkled the paper into a ball and threw it to the side where it bounced and rolled next to the pile gathering dust in the corner. Master Splinter sighed.

Splinter had sent his son thousands of miles away from his home and his family. Alone. For training, for centering his energy, for cleansing his spirit of that woman's taint . . . for punishment of his stubborn defiance. He had packed his son materials to stay in touch. And, like the obedient student he ever was, in the last six weeks, they had gotten several letters explaining Leonardo's general whereabouts and formalities of his health, training and well-being.

But he had not written his son back in response. Not once. It wasn't for lack of trying. It was simply that he did not know what to say.

He was not sorry for his decision. He would not apologize for what he'd chosen to use as a way to finally get through to his son the importance of his role as leader within their family. In some ways, Leonardo had given him no other choice but the radical one he made. Master Splinter knew that Leonardo would continue to pursue the traitorous female despite his pledges of fealty to his brothers and him. If she needed him . . . wanted him . . . he would have run to her, every time. Of that, Splinter was sure.

He huffed. The action only intensified the tingling pain that raced through his chest into his left arm. The candles closest to him felt the ghost of his breath and flickered. The shadows rose up in front of him in a frenzied dance. What he did was only to ensure Leonardo's complete dedication. It was for the good of all of them.

Splinter shook his head, silently arguing with the accusing faces that peered at him from between the fleeting shadows. He would not apologize for wanting his family to remain secure and unified in his absence. No, he was not sorry for sending his eldest son . . . his once shining pride and joy, to the edge of the world. Alone.

But he was not happy with it either.

Splinter stood and slowly pinched the flames of the candles out, one by one. And if in his nightmares he was visited by images of his son injured, bleeding out in the darkness of the jungles, starved and lonely, he would shoulder the burden and only pray that the visions were merely borne out of his deepest insecurities of his son's abilities.

Leonardo could fare for himself. Of that he was certain. His son was strong and capable, Splinter told himself. He'd trained him, hardened him, molded and prepared him well.

The next candle he reached for hissed as the delicate flame struggled and fought against being extinguished; succumbing inevitably to the suffocating pressure between his finger and thumb squeezing the wick.

Splinter pulled back and examined the slightly singed pads on his fingertip and thumb. A twinge of burning pain shot up through his blackened finger and thumb to his wrist. Splinter grimace and shook his hand. That actually hurt. He brushed the pain away, content with the thought that it was merely temporary.

As he slid into his bed, the tightness in his chest returned. His hand ached and burned still. Splinter closed his eyes and tried to center his uneasy thoughts; taking a small amount of comfort in the fact that he had done his best for his adopted children. Truly. He had made mistakes. But he only had their best interests at heart. As any loving parent did for their children. He took in a shaky breath; ignoring the pressure that sat on his chest, that grew with each passing night. He shifted and laid on his back.

Fleeting images of Leonardo alone, frightened, injured passed through his mind and he did his best to brush them away. His son . . . his pride above all else. He would return safely to them, and when he did, he would be stronger for his experiences.

Even if Leonardo never forgave him, he thought with a pang of regret, he and his brothers would eventually see that Splinter's decision was for the best for everyone. One day, they would understand and appreciate what he had done.

In the meantime, he only had to balance the righteousness of his decision with his regret. As all parents carried their regrets alongside their triumphs, did they not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the final regular chapter with an epilogue following to wrap up Part 2 of The Tender Trap. You know I've got to give you one last peek into Leonardo and Karai's future, right? XD I won't leave ya hanging! YAY!
> 
> Wow, I just have to say that I love you all and your words of support have really boosted my self-confidence as a writer. For everyone who favorited, followed(silently or with reviews) and those who took the time to leave reviews, gosh, just with all my heart, I thank you. I hope you have all enjoyed this roller coaster ride I put you on. I know there's been good and bad but hopefully in the end, you've enjoyed your time spent reading this.
> 
> NEW: I have started my very dark and disturbing story, What Makes a Father - it is my promised tale featuring turtle tots, a scared and very lost Hamato Yoshi who eventually becomes the Splinter you all know and love and one nasty, evil villain who takes in the turtles and "raises" them for the first years of their lives. See the story description for more info. And yes, I, too, am 'making amends' to my sweet Rat-Dad for depicting him so damn harsh and strict and even in some reader's opinions, positively EVIL in my recent stories! (eg., Don't Wait for Me, heehee)
> 
> So, if you're ready for a thrilling tale full of intensity and fright go check it out and leave a review! Oh yeah, the plot is obviously an AU story with my typical blend of characteristics from all the incarnations and is rated M just to be safe. 
> 
> (I'll be adding it to AO3 as soon as I finish uploading I, Alone!)


	22. Epilogue

_"Please say that if you hadn't of gone now_

_I wouldn't have lost you another way._

_From wherever you are . . . come back._

_And these days, they linger on - And in the night, as I'm waiting on_

_the real possibility I may meet you in my dream,_

_I go to sleep."_  –  _Come Back_  by Pearl Jam

* * *

_"I believe I've belonged to you, for a long time,_

_and my heart says . . . No. No one but you."_  -  _Prisoner of Love_  by David Bowie

* * *

**Epilogue**

_Four months later_

On the black rocks that jutted out over the shoreline, the humidity was not as cloying, as suffocating, as it was when he pushed and threaded his way through the jungle undergrowth to reach his sanctuary up here. Even down on the beach below, the thick air wrapped around you if you sat too still for too long. Besides there was ever the possibility that someone may see him if he wandered out in the open. One of the villagers or worse, one of the gun men from the cartels that seemed to appear randomly and with no reason to actually be in the jungle other than to make as much noise cursing in Spanish, stomping and cutting paths through the vines and ferns, as possible. Twice he'd nearly been seen by the men.

And though it had been some time since he last spotted one of the camouflaged-clad men roaming through his part of the forest, he had to stay alert. Had to stay hidden.

The sun glowed like melting gold as it sunk into the faded horizon where the sky met the ocean. Broken and stretched clouds spanned the deepening indigo of the sky, painted scarlet and shades of violet. Below, the white capped waves of the pacific were rimmed in gleaming, sparkling gold; breaking into hissing foam along the shore. The ocean was slowly turning into a sea of ink as the light faded.

A Harpy Eagle rose out from the forest on his left. The piercing lonely cry catching Leonardo's attention. It was the largest bird Leonardo had ever seen. He had a momentary flare of fear rise up in his chest. He watched it warily as it rose higher and higher into the sky before it dipped one wing and made to circle back over the tops of the trees beyond his sight.

He released his held breath. It wasn't the first time he'd been afraid and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

* * *

After he'd arrived and gave his stiff farewell to April, he headed off into the thick forest of the Corcovado National Park. It was late October. The rainy season.

He'd had no idea what to expect and had spent the first several nights sopping wet, shivering and hungry. He never had time to prepare for what awaited him in the jungle. Master Splinter had sent him immediately and with naïve determination and a bubble of fear residing in the middle of his chest he had set off to do his time, resigned to accept it for what it was. Something to get over with.

The first night, when he tried to sleep on the forest floor, on a bed made of thick serrated leaves, he found insects crawling all over his body as soon as the light of the day faded and his eyes slipped shut with exhaustion. The sheer amount that he'd brushed off his body when he jumped up with a shuddering shout would have served to give Raphael nightmares for the rest of his life.

Shivering, he'd shimmied up the tree he was next to and found he couldn't sleep the rest of the night despite his extreme exhaustion. He kept feeling the bugs crawling up and down his limbs, in and around the crevices of his shell. So he sat huddled in the crook of a thick branch and the trunk; shaking and wet as the thundering torrent of rain poured down on him.

The next morning, he climbed and slid down the trunk of the tree and set off to continue on his search to hopefully find some place he could use as a shelter. Seven hours of clamoring over and trudging through the rain forests' unyielding floor of tangled roots, fan-like ferns and strangling vine, some thicker than his thigh, left him aching and beyond exhausted. And still without a proper place to claim as a shelter.

Panting, he stopped and looked around, drenched in sweat, muscles quivering from exertion. The green and gray of strange foliage surrounded him punctuated by brilliant reds and yellows of flowers with thick petals. Above it was the same, more twining vines, exotic looking flowers and more leaves bigger than his head. He sighed. It all looked the same to him.

He didn't know which direction he was heading in and the few times he'd pulled out the small compass that was packed for him, he'd only confused himself with trying to understand how to use it. He thought he did, but apparently he wasn't an expert at orienteering. Not even close. Frustrated, weary, and aching he dropped down where he stood with a grunt.

His stomach growled and cramped. He suddenly felt ravished. He fished around his bag for something to eat with trembling hands. Thankfully, April had stuffed his backpack with granola bars and a few bottles of water at the airport before they'd boarded.

With his mouth full of two granola bars and another quickly being unwrapped in his shaking hands, he closed his eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks for the angel that was April O'Neil. His dear friend. Really, more like his loving older sister.

The thought of her sent a profound and painful blast of home-sickness through him. The reality of his situation struck him like a thunderbolt.

He would be here, alone, a year.

Three hundred sixty five days spent away from everything and everyone he knew and loved. He already missed his brothers and father so much. But more than anyone else . . . so much more . . . he forced the thought away, trying to be brave and stoic. But her beautiful oval face, her dark eyes staring at him, rose into his mind, nonetheless.

He choked on the mass of granola in his cheek and dropped his head, heart hammering from the sudden rush of emotion and pain. Too exhausted to hold them back, and too angry to care, tears formed, burning his eyes and began to streak down his cheeks. Once free, the tidal wave of anguish rolled freely through him sucking him under the powerful tow. Leonardo cradled his forehead against the heels of his trembling hands as an agonized sob broke from his chest. His shoulders shook as his breath came in ragged bursts and gasps.

He wanted to go back to New York. The only place he'd ever known. He wanted his brothers. He just wanted go  _home_. Leonardo rocked a little where he sat; lost and frightened and miserable and broken-hearted.

"I learned my  _lesson_ , Sensei," he choked through another sob, "Don't make me stay here a  _year_. I-I'm  _sorry_  . . . I . . . I'm . . ."

He sniffled; his words falling away to shuddering intakes of breath.

But wait . . . No. That wasn't right. He wasn't sorry. Not for loving Karai. That's what this punishment was for. And he would never be sorry for that. He clenched his jaw.  _Never_ , he thought stubbornly.

With his breath hitching in his throat, he pressed his hands hard into his eyes, feeling foolish and deeply ashamed for this outburst of self-pity and weakness. He choked back the last bite of tasteless food and shoved the rest back into his bag. Blaming the exhaustion and fear for his breakdown did little to assuage the burning feeling of shame that coated his pounding heart. He wiped angrily at his face and chided himself hotly for being a baby full of self-pity instead of the warrior he was supposed to be.

Feeling full of self-loathing, Leonardo stood up and slung the pack over one shoulder. Enough of this whining and pathetic crying, he thought. Squaring his shoulders he wiped his nose with the back of his hand once more and continued on in his search for a shelter.

It was days before he finally found the cave he now called home.

* * *

The jungle behind him was coming to life with the dying of the light. A group of howler monkeys began their nightly screaming and screeches and somewhere off to his right he heard the undulating roar of a puma or jaguar, he wasn't sure which; he was only glad it sounded a few miles off. He untwisted his body from when he spied and watched the graceful flight of the eagle and adjusted his folded legs out from under him so that he now sat crossed-legged on the cooling rock beneath him.

Raising his gaze to the heavens, he noticed the first of what would be thousands of stars gracing the sky. They twinkled above winking on as though some celestial hand were flicking a light switch. He'd never seen stars like this in the city. Never more than one or maybe two that shone through the haze of light pollution and the heavy yellow grunge that seemed to have permanent residence above the city at night.

But here was so different. The beauty of the Central American sky was incredible. It took his breath away. He sighed, wishing then that he'd brought his paper and pen with. For as lovely as the sky above filled with stars was, it only reminded him of someone else's beauty that matched and surpassed even those heavenly bodies above.

Leonardo had written his family as regularly as he dared; keeping them updated with his health and progress; making trips in stealth and shadows to deliver his letters to the mail box in one of the larger towns outside of the national park he roamed. Those were the letters he'd actually delivered.

There was another stack of letters that he kept to himself. In one dry corner of his cave they sat, collecting dust. Love letters he'd written when his heart was aching for her; when it was too much to hold inside; when he was struck by something that reminded him of Karai; or when he found something or some view that he wished she could see with him.

He was sure that the prose and poetry he'd penned was amateurish and silly if it were ever read, but he just couldn't help but put his deepest, most earnest feelings of longing onto paper. Imagining her face as she would look reading the letters helped him fall asleep. Dreaming of her arms wrapped around him, so painfully real, kept him looking forward to day turning to night. Besides foraging for anything edible and catching fish to eat, it was the only thing he really ever looked forward to during his long lonely days.

A breeze rose up, cooling the sweat against his body. He closed his eyes with the refreshing feel of it. This was another reason he was so fond of this spot; his sanctuary. This precious bit of outcropping that offered seclusion and no small amount of tranquility. The breezes that wafted up from the crashing waves below served to rejuvenate him and helped him center himself on empty meditation. Not only that, but he had a clear view of the beach some fifty feet or so below.

He blinked, then turned his head. He frowned as he concentrated on the line of thick bushes and tall scrub grass that met the rocky part of the beach before it smoothed out into the warm sandy shoreline. Something made the undergrowth shake violently and Leonardo trained his gaze there. He wondered if it might be one of those fat weird looking creatures. Tapirs, he remembered.

He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. Not an animal, Leonardo realized with a shock.

A person emerged. A villager, Leonardo thought and felt himself start to relax. From the shape of the person, it looked like maybe a petite man. His frown deepened. No, that wasn't right. The person stumbled forward and pitched onto their hands and knees.

Leonardo jumped up. Were they hurt? Should he investigate?

Part of him wanted to turn around and blend back into the protective shadows of the rain forest. But another part, the lonely, aching part that longed for company and conversation and something other than hunting, sleeping, hiding and dealing with constant stomach problems urged him forward. Quickly and silently, he climbed down the jagged cliff and landed in the sand with a slight thud. He leaped into the black shadows of the tree line and crept closer.

He was only a few dozen feet away from the figure who was sitting up, drinking from a large bottle of water, when his careful footsteps faltered.

Moving by inches, he straightened from his crouched position as his glassy eyes grew round. The roaring sound of his pulse filled his ears drowning out the cacophony of noises coming from the jungle behind him. His heart hammered painfully against his chest.

Suddenly it was very hard to breathe.

_Am I hallucinating? Have I lost my mind?_

The woman wiped her mouth, then pressed a hand to her forehead. Panting, she dropped her hand. She looked around, up and down the beach only to drop her head and huff a soft sigh. She sat staring at the near empty bottle in her hand, cradled in the center of her folded legs. A large backpack packed for hiking and a smaller bag were laying near her where she'd dropped them.

Leonardo stepped out from the shield of the shadows.

As if sensing him, her face snapped in his direction.

His mouth hung open, one hand held aloft as if reaching for some invisible solid thing to brace his weight. He took another stumbling step forward.

She blinked. The expression on her face raced from suspicion to recognition to joy. She rose up on wobbly legs.

 _"Leonardo?"_  she asked in a gasp. "Leonardo . . .!"

_"K-Karai?"_

Upon hearing his voice, she dropped the bottle where it rolled into the sand. Stumbling a little on the uneven ground, she dashed towards him.

Without thinking, he felt his toes dig into the spongy earth beneath his feet as he pitched forward and started running towards Karai, still feeling as if he were in the middle of a dream. If he was he never wanted to wake up.

In a matter of seconds, they closed the distance between them. Karai half-leapt, half-collapsed into Leonardo's open arms. The impact made him stumble back. He lost his footing and fell straight down onto his rump then careened backwards onto his shell. An embarrassed laugh broke from his lips. He pulled her close with his strong arms as she wrapped hers around his neck, gasping and making a sound like bubbling broken laughter.

"Leo! It's you!" she cried and repeated between gasps and kisses.

Frantically, she kissed him, over and over all over his mouth, chin and nose as he tried to find her lips to return the ardent affection. The wetness of her warm tears surprised him. More so when he realized he was crying as well. Laughing and crying they rolled to one side.

Karai pulled away, looked at him then pulled him close again; kissing him with renewed fervor.

Leonardo closed his eyes and soaked in the precious overwhelming feel of her presence, of her scent, of her lips and the curves of her . . . A soft frown puckered at the edge of his smile. He pulled away, looking at her face, then down to her stomach, not understanding what he was feeling . . . or seeing.

"I've been searching for  _months_  for you," she panted, fresh tears spilling over her face. "Why did you have to be such a ninja about hiding, you bastard!" She pushed at his shoulder and choked out a near hysterical chuckle.

"Karai, I had no idea you were tracking me."

He rose up on one elbow and looked down at where she lay beneath him; feeling a surge of painful desire and longing, but he pushed it back as dread shrouded him in its chilling shadow. His dark blue eyes sparkled in the starlight and bounced between hers. But they slowly dropped down as he gently placed a hand on her firm, but rounded stomach. They rose again to meet hers full of questions and laced with hurt. " _Karai_  . . ." he started uncertainly and his voice was choked.

Karai placed her hand over his and bit her bottom lip.

He blinked in confusion as she gave a small shake of her head and fresh tears spilled down her face. He felt his heart stop as she spoke.

"Leo . . . I'm . . . I'm pregnant." When the shadow passed through his eyes and the devastated hurt fell over his face he slowly pulled away from her; throat working; unable to hide his crushing pain from her. She grabbed him firmly by his cheeks, turning his face back to her. "It's  _yours_. It's  _yours_ , Leo," she added quickly, her voice full of amazement.

He blinked rapidly as she pressed his cheeks together. "Say it with me . . . It's yours."

"It . . . It's . . . but how?  _How_?"

She let go of his cheeks and rose up on her elbows. She shrugged as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"Hm, I guess it was by some magical . . . baby-turtle-hybrid . . . spouting fairy . . ." she trailed off and snickered. She swatted at him, still sitting dumbfounded and shaken. An elbow draped over one bent knee; thumb and finger mashed against his chin and mouth as he sat deep in thought. "How do you  _think_?"

"Karai, this is . . .  _serious_. This . . . this couldn't have  _happened_."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, really? This is  _serious_? Phew, I'm  _so_  glad you warned me. And sorry to be the one who shatters your perception of reality, but it  _has_  happened. It is happening." Her face lost all mischievousness and fell into a worried mask. "Y-You're okay, though. Right? I mean, you . . . you want it . . . don't you?" she finished with a whisper; eyes widening.

Leonardo's head snapped to her. His intense stormy eyes were burning in the twilight, holding a churning mix of emotions that were unreadable. He asked softly, barely more than a whisper,  _"Do you?"_

Karai nodded firmly. "I really, really do. But . . . only if it's what you want . . . only if you'll be there . . ."

Before she could say anything else, he was lifting her up where he knelt; crushing her body to him; burying his face into the side of her neck. She felt his body shaking and trembling violently as he nuzzled her even closer.

His words poured out in a rush of fevered, earnest whispering. _"K-Karai . . . Yes! Ohho, yes, I'll be there. I'll always be here. For you, forever. Oh, Karai, Karai. I can't believe this. This is . . . This is c-crazy! B-But you've made me so happy. Stay with me forever, say yes, please say yes."_

He held his breath, trembling from head to toe, as he waited for her answer. Knowing they were risking everything. Knowing the entire world was against them. That it had always been against them. Knowing his child, if it survived the pregnancy and birth, would face a world that was full of everything it could ever want, but would withhold it all if for only because he or she was different. His child would have to fight for what it wanted; fight just to exist.

But Leo was more than willing to devote his life to protect and care for his wife and child as he had always done with his brothers and father. He had more than enough room in his heart for two precious more. And through his brothers' love and support and maybe one day, his father's, perhaps one day his child would be as happy as he was at this very moment.

He pulled back, enough to stare into her eyes, waiting desperately for her reply. One hand cradled the back of her head, the other was wrapped around her lower back.

His eyes danced over her face down to her lips; holding his breath as he watched them form one word that changed everything, forever.

_"Yes."_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends Part 2 of The Tender Trap. Did you like it? Did you like my ending? I'm not one for dragging things out too long and find endings better when they're more open-ended. . .
> 
> (Oh, If you haven't heard that Pearl Jam song, man, it's so perfect, you may shed some tears if you listen to it as you read this last chapter.)
> 
> Thank you, my sweet reviewers, followers and favorite (ors? favoritors?) You've given me such a gift with your kind words, you've boosted my self-confidence as a writer and emboldened me to write on. And I promise I will. See you in another story . . .
> 
> xo
> 
> 2015 UPDATE: I have begun Part 3, titled: Sins of the Fathers - if any of my readers, new or old are not aware...it picks up a few weeks after the end of this story. :D

**Author's Note:**

> *Dodges various items thrown at my head.* I know, I know! What the heck happened in that BARN!? Thoughts? Theories? Well, you'll find out soon!
> 
> So what do you think? I started the Tender Trap with a dream sequence and wanted to do the same with this.


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